


Shadow Hound

by Ratmor



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Choose Your Own Adventure, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, High School, Multi, Music, Out of Character, Psychological Drama, Self-Insert, Slice of Life, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-09-07 17:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratmor/pseuds/Ratmor
Summary: Self-Insert story, CYOA inspired. Contains Alt!Powers, loads of questionable thoughts, cursing, violence; Self-Insert went wrong.Shadow HoundorThat time when SI CYOA gives you nothing but... Sophia Hess with your conscience and love for music. Or not.





	1. 1. Charts are our everything

**1\. Charts are our everything**   
** _or_ **   
** _How Someone chose Not My Own Adventure_ **

I was peacefully scratching my nose let's say from the inside, and not scratching but picking, but who cares, really. There was no one but me in the apartment and I got this itch, so why not.

I was also staring my laptop down, trying to decipher Choose Your Own Adventure for Worm, and in my head I was like "How can you be that bored To hang out in the ending world", yep, russian Skittles 2007 commercial was that creepy you might consider it good for citation while thinking on Worm CYOA. The slogan was something like: "Cheer up and hang out on the rainbow." All those memes about hangings on the rainbow it produced...

As always, I made a decision to kill two bunnies with one stone, or whatever you say when you try to make two charts on one and only sheet of paper. Even if I'd never use that writer's crutch the CYOA seems to be for my own fanfiction, I was somehow curious about writing down the initial plot of my future fanfic in the boundaries of that system. And the second chart on the list was all about me, if I did the real insertion of my own mind into that mad realm full of destruction. I always thought you should have some pity for your main character, but not too much, or the adventures won't be interesting to read.

  
http://www.picshare.ru/view/10220833/

Finally I put finishing touches on the last chart, something about time of insertion, and set the CYOA devoted sheet of paper aside, taking the other one sheet of paper. It was much more useful, the disposable napkin for snot, sweat and slobber. I sniffed pretty loud and reached for spray but it downed on me that I used it's magic couple of hours ago and it never went away. And it's a week I'm struggling with it, so it's something a bit more serious than flu, I suppose. And the body temp got that high I'm not even feeling it. That kinda rings some bells. There's high probability I need a doctor.

"Sinusit, I'm lovin' it," I started singing McDonaldz commercial tune because if I start remembering old commercials it gets out of my subconscious as well.

The next thing I did was trying to show the "para-pa-pa-pa" part with my body because the voice stopped working. That was such a perfect timing. My ridiculously uplifting but very much stupid moves were interrupted by Timmy Trumpet and his Freaks calling for me, and that meant one of my friends assaulting me with their bullshit, high probability of pettiness of that bullshit, as always.

That wasn't Mom, she got Star Wars Imperial March as her personal ringtone, so I cursed the noisy thing and ignored the assault. My next move was walking barefoot to the bathroom for my mysterious medical cache. I really hate taking meds for no reason, consider it a slippery slope from self-heal to eventual self-harm. Though, I knew what to do with sinusitis, recall it vividly, and had those sinupret pills in my medkit. That's why it's mysterious, you never know what you'll find there.

It might save me time with therapist and other doctors she might assign me to visit. The fastest way is a private clinic but my last appointment there, well, escalated quickly. The orthopedic surgeon told me I should undergo operation that I don't really need and that cost about ten thousand Euros, but the outcome had those riscs I might just as well lie down and have my fun in the coffin, not really but I didn't care at the time.

That day I simply made a circular motion with index finger near my head and told the guy I'd better listen to the free foot doctor in the common clinic. The free one simply told me to take care of traumatized limb from the outside and make appointments each month to see the progress and reschedule the operation if it would seem necessary. I did my homework and got a healthy leg as an outcome, and that surgeon dude can throw away his wet dreams of making operations when they aren't needed. There should be some boundaries in this kind of shit!

I took my meds and my cell to kitchen, gulped down the pills and finally answered the call.

That was the last thing I remember.

I woke up under an Unfamiliar Ceiling.

Well, if you consider waking up when it wasn’t you who did the thing. The body I was in felt like a cage, and the only thing available was watching the ceiling. Apparently, that certain someone wanted to laze a bit.

After some meaningless search of some meaning of what’s happening, I wasn’t even feeling astonished. This is it. I’m either unhappily dreaming on the floor of my apartment, or I have a memory loss affecting the moments of this transferal.

The only thing that made the situation better was the freedom of my thoughts to go anywhere they liked, so I let them and it made me freak out. I was in the body of Sophia Hess and last night Shadow Stalker got her first kill.

Her thoughts were restless and even if they weren’t mine, I felt some kindred spirit here, because the guy was Empire Eighty Eight and as an anarcho-communist I had just one thing to say. Good job, go, Shadow Stalker, go. Would be better if she wasn’t straw nihilist, really.

All these prey talks seem like Rodion Raskolnikov went the wrong road, and I’d really have to make the girl read something, like, at all. That’s if I’m not dreaming and really am here in her brain. She seemed too breachy for any good read, in her memories, that is. Pity. Well, if the glass is empty it gets filled with bullshit, and her glass, I mean, mind is full of that petty crap. So, about that eighty eight guy, vigilantism was basically approved for capes, double standards and all, but it won’t be easy on her if they trace the murder to Shadow Stalker.

At that moment it was obviously sick but sickeningly pleasing, she seemed to think of it as if it was a great outcome for her hunt. She already non-lethally shot down two mates of that freak, and the freak was her chase of the week. That guy attacked the girl of Sophia’s age on the streets while Stalker was watching on the closest roof and seeking for reaction.

The girl was squirming and shrieking but his weight was too much for her to handle, and he was fiddling with her knees already, so Stalker shot the guy.

She missed.

Something made Stalker’s hand slip, so the man got away. I didn’t get what exactly, that was just a memory, and I felt no emotions connected to it. My ability to go down her chain of memories didn’t go that far. She used victim’s phone to call for ambulance and made a promise to finish the hunt.

Got herself in trouble in the end, because the Empire goons, the ones she crippled along with the dead guy, will undoubtedly become a problem. If there’s anything I’m sure of, it's that the nazi group would’ve never been that successful if it had no connections in local everything, the PRT included. So, that’s just the matter of time. She'll get busted on one of her cape-nights, no doubt. And after killing that thug, she was thinking of laying low. And right now she’s feeling something awkward… Not what she expected to feel?

Hess is currently experiencing lack of her overwhelming aggression, the one that requires self-control of terrific power she never had.

That’s my fault, I guess. Something was nagging me like a dog that wants the pat on the head and puts its nose everywhere to get it. That’s her power, I guess. And she’s panicking now. Really? Reaching for her cell to do the thing we’d both regret, there’s no doubt to it.

“Stop!”

She froze and without any second thoughts she turned around with those kind of reflexes I never had in my life. Judo was good for staying in shape, as was ice skating I enjoyed to engage in when I moved to Moscow, but I never had the need to be good in any of those activities.

She was an overachiever when it came to sports, it seems. Or maybe I was that lazy in everything that endangered my fat reserves. Obviously, the girl saw no one in her room, that might become a surprise for me as well, that's why she got angrier, being on the verge of using her powers. That fucking power-dog felt much more excited now.

I think, I have to say something. Just to try it out, maybe.

“I’m in your head. And I seem to be a buffer zone between your conscious and your power, Sophia Hess. Good morning, I’m from the other world. “

“I’m definitely calling PRT,” she stated and I had to talk her out of it because I don't think I could've stopped her physically.

“Stop! You do know of multiverse, don’t you?”

“That’s why I’m calling PRT!” she almost croaked that and was shaking in fear mixed with anger.

I didn’t get why at first. Then I heard her thoughts about Simurgh, Heartbreaker and other masters that manifested their power over human beings. Well then, here it goes. Some Serious Shit Time. I'm going to nuke her with that knowledge, I think, but she's a big girl, she'll handle it.

“You and your stupid friends are going to trigger Taylor Hebert. Oh, I feel some recognition. You already know who I’m talking about. No, she won’t go Carrie on you. I know, unbelievable, but in the future I know, she won’t.”

“You know?” she said it out loud but her thoughts were similar to what she was saying. She really wanted to know how the fuck I know it, quote.

“Well, I’m no precog, if that’s what you’re thinking. Oh, no, you’re not thinking. You don’t have that ability. You live in the world full of dangerous capes and you experienced trigger yourself, so why the hell you thought it would be alright to bully... No, not going there, I heard that’s traumatising, and I’m not seeing it from your point of view even if you pleadingly ask me to.”

“What the fuck!” she cursed. “You can see my memories?”

“I don’t think I want to. The only thing I did was chasing thought after thought after thought and I must want to do it for it to happen. And I didn’t like the experience. If I was able I would’ve throw up. That was my first gutted man, you see.”

“That was my feelings, you dumbass. 'T was MY first gutted man that I watched dying, and I felt sick and pleased both.”

“So, that’s another reason for not to rehearse your trigger event. I don't think I need your feelings mixing with mine.”

“No shit.” Sophia grunted.

“So, you’re going to listen to me? Are you going to call PRT with a death wish? Or maybe I might enlighten you on Ragnarök waiting to happen?”

“Ragnarok, really?” she snickered. “Are you one of those?”

“Nah, that’s just because I watched Thor Ragnarok movie again before I got here, so I’m stuck with it. Not my fault. It's too funny for your average action superhero movie.”

“Superhero movie? Marvel? ”

She seemed somehow thoughtful. Wow, that might make the evening news, be careful with it, girl, being thoughtful might make you less dumb. That only would change the survival chances of the whole local multiverse. No joke.

“Yes, how do you know? Does Marvel...” I started asking but she shut me up and asked to continue about Hebert.

“Well, you see, back to Taylor Hebert, she’s going to cripple Lung of all capes the first night she’s out there as a cape.”

“Huh.”

“Silence is golden, but I feel you want to say something.”

“Ahem… Well, fuck?”

“Never stop yourself when you want to curse, if you're all alone, it eases the anger and let you blow off steam.”

“But your mother was a snob and never let you say anything rude at home, she never said that she liked what you did and always let your psychotic father reprimand you… physically." Sophia grinned and continued her rant. "You were happy when you got free of him and you felt shame for it, because your accomplishments weren’t ever good for both of them. That’s why you think you can understand me, because you were a problem kid with anger issues and you got over it with time. You can’t. Understand, I mean. My... mother’s new husband tried to feel me up, and you don’t even want to see the thing. Why's that? Oh, you are afraid that you’d feel too sorry for me. And you don't want to feel sorry for me because of what I did. What was that?”

“What the…”

“I did… Filled locker with toxic waste… tampons and… and then pushed her into. And left her there to rot.”

Sophia shut her mouth with a clank of her teeth and I stopped seeing anything because she put her hands on her eyes. She started talking again and her voice wasn’t weak or sour. She spoke like she believed it.

“She must’ve deserved it somehow.”

“They deserve it when you shoot them… You really think yourself some vigilante hero. Like some fucking homemade Batman. It’s not her who did something wrong for you to harass her, it’s you and your powers and Emma fuckin Barnes.” I almost growled the last two sentences at her and it worked, but not quite how I intended it to.

“All of them are like that," her breath hitched. "Escalation. It’s not just me. And I still think that Hebert is a weak piece of shit. She mistook pity for friendship, and wasn't even aware of it, just accepted it and thought that would last till death parts them, or whatever she imagined in her stupid little head... Oh, no, you don’t get to say that! I'm not less full of crap than you are. You almost killed a guy when you were my age, that's an ultimate bullying move to kill someone, you know it. Not my age? My age when Hebert’s trigger occured? That’s better. ”

She was smug like she got Tattletale powers, but she just used my trick on me.

That was scary as shit, but had some potential. She did have humiliating algebra grades, not that I know how I learned this specific info about her. And I couldn’t care more for what she said about me. There are other problems, like I am on Earth-Bet and Taylor Hebert might never trigger because Sophia knows something she shouldn't. And she has me in her head. Scion is scarier than this kid's smugness. And how do I even know about her grades? That’s not the point, the point is - she needs her inner Tattletale euthanized.

“Stop braggin’ with this face like you own me.” I groaned while she continued grinning and feeling smug.

“You started it! And how’d you know what face I make?”

“I’m inside, how wouldn’t I? It’s getting comfy here, I can feel more. Apparently, that’s your doing. I did nothing. You started digging for memories further, didn't you?”

“Oh shit.”

“I know no shit about why this is happening, but it seems we’re getting along well. You sure about trying to read my mind, Shadow Stalker?"

“Oh motherfukin shit.”

She couldn't stop cursing, apparently, so I decided to encourage her. I don't think I'd be able to shout whatever curses I want out loud, so I have to get used to living through her actions, or something like that. I don't know why I'm that calm about the loss of any control either."

“Let it go, come on, curse like you never cursed! I want it so much but I can’t feel like I used to, so I need you to feel this for me, kid!” I nagged her and she was even glad to obey.

“Fuck you fukin!” she started shouting like we both wanted to, but got interrupted by the loud knocking.

“Stop cursing, girl!” Sophia’s mother was already in the doorway, she opened the door without any hesitation or warning and seemed very irritated, standing there crossing arms over her chest. “Get up and help me with food. You’re being too loud, your siblings are sleeping.”

“But I don’t want to!” Sophia got angry but this time her power didn’t nag her, it nagged me, stupid dog. So it got nowhere and Stalker was surprised that much, she even stood up and started walking to her Mom.

“Such a tiredly looking woman… No, I don’t want a pass on memory lane and see her shouting on you for nothing, thank you, Shadow Stalker. Fuck you too. People fuck up their relationship with parents, there’s nothing new.”

“I’m up, Mom,” Sophia seemed unnerved but wasn’t suspicious.

After all, teenagers don't seem suspicious when they’re always up to something, do they?


	2. 2. Slice of Grumpiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally Slice of Grumpy Hess Family

**2.1. Slice of Grumpiness**   
** _Or_ **   
** _Welcome to the family, you, asshole._ **

The sun was mercilessly peeking through the windows of the kitchen, flashing tired Sophia right in the left eye. I didn't like her apparent unwillingness to close that damn eye or turn her head. Fuckin' masochist, she is.

Her mother wasn’t impressed by her almost somnambulistic daughter, which was my fault basically, but I wasn’t impressed by that dear lady as well. Weekend morning is worth being polite with your family. You probably have plans you don’t want to ruin with your pissed off attitude, Sophia's Mom. So why are you so grumpy? That I'd really like to know. Well, I just have to admit, this girl is quite irritating and irritable, but her mother is fleeing the house like it’s on fire, not even pecking her kid on a cheek. I saw lack of good mood in the family and I didn't ask questions, because I always had some sort of that cold shoulder in mine as well, but it’s the weekend, you're not that grumpy at the weekend. I didn’t get why she wasn’t spending Saturday at home and I didn’t want to initiate the merging of thoughts with Shadow Stalker for something like that.

“She isn’t…” apparently, it’s already hard for her not to peek into my process of thinking, that's why Sophia murmured her answer under her nose. “She has two jobs, you dumbass. And I know how to feed the little one, she's two and a half years old, not months, so Mom doesn’t stick around for breakfast if she’s in hurry.”

I should have guessed so myself. Shame on me.

“Oh. I guess, I missed that it’s not my republic, where your party might never end if you know people, like to walk around the town with people and know how to talk business during those parties for the sake of making money. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions because for me the weekend is a sacred time I spend with people I love or appreciate, or both. And I haven't agreed to work on the weekends in the morning since I graduated University. I’m not that desperate. Is she that desperate?”

“She has three children in Brockton Bay and she never went to College or University, so her paycheck isn't that great," she could barely continue talking with the same volume, and it downed on me, I said something very wrong. "What do you think, is she desperate? And you're an ass, you know that?”

“Well, I’m not, that’s just my thoughts that are based on my knowledge and logical conclusions, not feelings I might’ve experienced while being in my body. There’s high probability I would’ve never told you that thing about being desperate aloud. I wouldn’t even think it.”

“And what’s wrong with not going anywhere on weekends?” she shook her head and whispered. “You see, I’m not really a fan of people...”

“Well, bonding always has success around food and drinks… And it’s good for any business.”

Her mom was already gone when Sophia poked into the fridge and cursed, because the milk expired. She didn’t want to spend her own cash on household needs.

"Why’s that exactly?"

“No one’s gonna give me more money if I spend what I already have,” she explained. “And my vigilante cache is for my emancipation, not for everyday life. It’s as simple as that."

"What exactly do you mean by vigilante cache is for emancipation? How do you even get that much? Your memories say that it’s already more than ten grand!"

"It’s so fucking disturbing when you read my mind," she sighed and got some eggs out of the fridge. "Why did you even do that? It definitely makes things awkward for both of us… You yourself didn’t like how it felt when I did it."

“And it would be much more awkward than that if you and I end up merging with each other. I doubt it would make any of us saner. I understand we both want our minds separate, but sometimes I just...”

“What? Why’s that important for you how much money I saved?”

“That wasn’t actually about how much. That was about how.”

“I’m not some crazed marauder for fucks sake! I don't know why you're that biased against me, but I'm not! I clean their caches if I find money, but if I stop a drug deal, how the fuck do you think it’s a drug deal in the eyes of the police if there’s no money and only drugs on those fuckers? They won’t really go to jail after I put them in hospital if I take all the money I found on them. It's called evidence, you dumbass!”

“Okay, but I'm as dumb as you are, because you're saving money for emancipation and evading the whole situation, while you should've told your Mom about your trigger event at the first place and she wouldn't be that offended by your lack of support of her relationship with that bastard. I think she loves you, but for some women it's quite important to have a man in their life. Never understood the notion, but how could I? Oh, I just followed the thought about your little sister and it came to why your mom's that bitchy to you, no offence, I'm sorry, but I consider it really stupid..."

"You don't understand," Sophia was loudly cutting cheese, and before that she oiled the pan. "She would've wanted me in the Wards, she doesn't want problems, and they aren't helping, and I'm not a tinker to be valuable enough. They won't pay me real cash, you know it as well as I do. And that bastard is helping his daughter with money, even if I threatened to cut his dick off if he ever comes by while I'm here, so it's easier for her not to know."

"Got it. We'll continue it later, but now, Shadow Stalker, I think we’re not alone,” I warned her because I noticed the staircase creeper before she did, she was busy with breaking eggs. My heads-up made her lazily turn around to the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Terry,” she smiled viciously, and that wasn’t a smile you give to your favourite brother. “You’re buying milk, Terry, and that's not negotiable. I don’t even drink it.”

Well, I finally got to see him - he was as grumpy as anyone could be Saturday morning in this family. And I have to admit, I’m really not used to any faces that aren’t european or asian, I might even guess right the nationality, if we’re talking about asians, but people of darker colours are a bit hard for me.

I cursed the day I’ve decided to go to India, not really, but in that aspect it was quite true. Most of the native people were kind of very much similar to me. And I’ve never been to african countries, or America, or any group with more than one-two dark-skinned people. So, my experience was clearly lacking, not that it mattered in anything but facial recognition. Cross-race effect in action.

And it seems like this boy resembles any black guy I’ve ever seen in my life. Rather tall, funny hair, sporty… Apparently, I should feel ashamed, because it sounds like what those russians say about caucasus people, that we are all one and the same, really. I know they say it when they specifically want to offend, but I never thought I’d catch myself musing about someone’s stereotypical appearance.

“It’s for the kid!” Terry stopped his sneaky advances and answered properly. "I don't drink it as well! So, you totally could buy it yourself, Sophie."

“You drink it, stop messin' with me!" replied Sophia and rolled her eyes. "And she needs it fresh, doesn’t she? That’s why you are going to go outside and buy the fucking thing!”

“You know, Sophie, you won’t get a boyfriend with such an attitude,” he scoffed and added a nail to his coffin, apparently, because Sophia felt enraged. "Bossy bitch."

"Have any suggestions?" she clutched the knife more tightly. Supposedly unconsciously. That's Sophia Hess we're talking about.

Well, I know that feeling when you really want to hurt the idiot with anything you hold in your hand. She refrained from harming him, so gods bless her patience. She did have a nagging beast inside her before I arrived, so her own anger wasn't as bad as usual.

"No? Well, you aren't in bed already, I'm cooking you eggs, and you just have to go and fuckin' buy some milk. For your other little sister, not even for me," she mockingly taunted him. "You'd feel like your sisters' hero, dear brother, just get your lazy ass out and buy some milk!"

Terry continued scoffing, but he had no reason not to agree.

"Okay, I go. But first I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

He strolled off and Sophia cursed.

"Shit. I felt I forgot something. That's all your fault." Sophia sighed.

"Oh, I think not. Little pig!" I snickered and she cursed again.

Our scrambled eggs were almost ready and she threw cheese in before closing the lid and letting it settle a bit. So, we both felt really hungry and weren't inclined to argue more. I don't even try to comprehend how it works.

"What's his story, kid? I doubt he's gonna tell me anything, so that's kinda your call."

She started murmuring under her nose again, that was the only way I could hear her and not initiate the merging at the same time.

"He graduated last year and started working in the rotting Docks you must've known of if you read about this city in that... Worm. Not really obvious, but Terry's trying to study online in the process. Not really helping the family. Lazy piece of... Well, he's smart enough not to do hard drugs, though."

"Be glad that he is," I would've shrugged if I could.

The hard drugs problem transcends space and time, really.


	3. 2.2. Broken state of Shadow Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or
> 
> How I humanized the bitch and then told her about Eidolon

**2.2 Broken state of Shadow Stalker**

_ **Or** _   
_ **How I humanized the bitch and then told her about Eidolon** _

We ended up waiting for the kid to wake up and the big kid to come back.

Sophia cleaned her plate like she was starving to death. I was feeling whatever she did, so my mood gradually upped when she felt less tired and more inclined to talk about her brother in less dismissive tone. Well, it seemed better if I never asked about him, because that made her moderately angry.

The guy was a big kid as I already said, but that was obvious even without her explanations. I wasn’t going to say shit like “at his age I was already...” because of different circumstances, worlds and all that. I’m not a stupid ass, I’m quite a smart ass, and if you don’t praise yourself, who’d do that instead? So, yes, I’m an ass but smart one and I really wanted some action so I started with asking Stalker what she wanted to do after she feeds the little one.

I was all for visiting Downtown and Boardwalk, but she didn’t see any reason for her to disrupt her initial training regimen and doingnothingness after it's done. No Emma or other friends for today.

The kid’s pretty antisocial deep inside, so she doesn’t like all her weekend invaded by someone else’s whims and wills. And Emma’s exactly like that - somehow pretty and adorably cunning invader who likes things that Sophia just tolerates at best. But she's popular and wealthy and indebted. So, it's safe. Cold blooded and calculated but I expected nothing else...

I should stop reading her mind, really.

She doesn’t see Emma wrong and I do, but I don’t know a girl for real, so I have to make my own opinion without flashes of Sophia’s quite dulled care about that girl. Not as sociopathic as I thought her be, then.

All that arguing was basically about me getting to know the city and her unwillingnes to sate my curiosity. I was pretty much restless and she definitely had nothing to do today so why not?

It grew into a heated argument because I really ached for some action as her power nagged me. And then nagged me again and again.

Sophia stopped disturbing the airflow in the room with her complaints when she understood that she’s arguing with that same air around her and can’t hit me in the face. Her fists were clenching and unclenching, jaw tight, so I gathered she seemed to think of violence.

Well, she fumed but couldn’t do anything with me being very much interested in the most famous places of Brockton Bay. We’d have to survive here, even try to prosper while it's still possible, and I don’t have all the access to her life and I don’t think I want this access at all. Apparently, it causes merging with her on some deep level and it would be great if I could avoid it as long as I’m able to. Forever, if I have any say in what’s gonna happen.

Don’t want to get into that shit, better just watch, really. Not my adventure, like, at all. Golden shit might hit the fan anytime if we butterfly anything, and there’s no Khepri yet.

The Universe apparently has no tankreds to endure the Scion, and Taylor Hebert right now is everything but her own canonical Tankred. Or Skitter for that matter.

Oh, well, these people are probably unaware of Warhammer 40k and I should refrain from even thinking of gods of Chaos. After all, I’m here in the Wormverse, for fucks sake. If it exists, I gather all the fiction shit might exist as well.

So, there's no way I have guts to say any sayings like “Blood for the blood God” even if it’s quite familiar for me to joke around that old thingy. All the shit I say might end up in those ears whose owner no one ever want to arrive to their realm. I mean, who in their right mind ever wants Khorn to hear them? Eh, I might know of one dude out there who really needs that kind of audience and attention. Name’s Scion. But I doubt the aftermath would be better than the original Golden Morning.

Somehow I felt the deja vu feeling when I was thinking about Warhammer and unwanted deities around.

"Alright then." I decided to tone it down and stop the argument. "Are you eager to face the apocalypse unprepared, Sophia?"

"No?"

It was the right answer but it wasn't the right tone.

"Say it like you mean it! Why do you think they treat Empire 88 or other villainous groups that aren't moral at all with kids gloves? They think it will help them when the golden Apocalypse hits. Well, it will actually help but at what cost?"

"They will be the one to survive, those who are stronger are always..."

"They'll just get lucky. The golden dude misses them when he strikes and so they are lucky, not strong. You cannot be stronger than the first... ugh... hero." I said the last word with sarcasm and would've airquoted it if I could. "He is the source of powers."

"Fuck it sideways, why me!" She groaned and put her face on her fists on the table. "Why the fuck it's me who gets her ass blasted with that impossible info?! I can't believe it! I don't really think I can prove it without shitting on any survival instincts I still have enabled!"

"Everything screams at you to run, I just feel it. You want to. But you can't. It's knowledge, not Lung. You are unable to run from knowledge."

"I still want to forget it, whatever you say about apocalypse."

She sighed and thought of her dear brother Terry who'd be the best in delivering any death sentences, so they come when you're already old and tired of living.

The little one has to wake up to make things move faster. That was Sophia's exact thought and she even considered waking her up by herself. Shook off the idea, of course. Only a monster would try to wake up the two and a half year old child early Sunday morning.

"What that means by the way? Are you going to..."

"I'm gonna do what you said, show you Brockton and all that..." She felt tired again but that was somehow harsher than before. "It's pretty much depressing to know I have to, as you say it, bully someone just to make them trigger right. I see it as showing her where's her real place in that world, educational really."

She snorted and shrugged.

"I never even hit her properly. It feels like she’s to thin to survive it. Not that I don't believe you, I might've come up with that bullying campaign you're thinking when you told me about Hebert triggering, but I really have better things to do than plan whatever that was… is… would've been."

"So… you don't think I'm accurate or what? I told you what I've read!" I was a bit surprised by her argumentation, but it made sense in some twisted kind of way.

She didn’t answer my question, but she didn’t need to. She thought it wasn’t what might have happened, and I thought that it could’ve happened if she had no other things to do and nowhere to burn off her steam. And, well, she was that same bitch who didn't feel bad about "showing someone their place".

"So, what if I say I'm going on a tour with you and in exchange you tell me everything you know about what might happen. You'll do it very fuckin’ slow and detailed, and I'm gonna write it down so I know what the actual fuck is happening!" She stated.

"I have a better idea. We'll make a really huge chart and you'll need a program for it… or A1 sheet of paper. Why's that you or your family never needed a PC before?"

"Boring adult you are, with your charts and programs" she scoffed and answered my question about PC. "It's not that common and not that cheap."

"No kongo almost slaves, I got it."

And, well, I really didn't think it's something special to say, but she simultaneously became enraged. When I felt a spike of rage in her chest, I cursed my wording. She was angry because of cultural misunderstanding, probably?

"Meaning what, you fucker, what slaves?!" She hissed.

"Whoah, calm down! It's about that shit you need for making some parts of computer or tablet or cell! I, sort of, fond of reading business and financial analytics journals. That's very useful for analysing whatever happens around or in the news on the other side of the world. News manipulate us and all that, and I don't like to be manipulated. So, I really feel better if I gather data and get to some answers myself. Quite masochistic, but my brain loves the exercise.

So, Sophie, you do understand that cheap labor is profitable and all the corporations that need it don't mind using it. Especially when the production is corrupting the ecology, so their own people would reap their throats out for poisoning their children. Not literally, but that's not the point. So, we usually joke around the slave theme when it comes up in the conversation, nothing special really. Cheap labour is almost like slavery, and we, as a society, had nothing to do with it in the recent past. Had other bullshit happening, though.

Believe it or not, I had no real knowledge of Martin Luther King until I was your age and we touched the subject on history class. So I never thought that I have to bear any hard feelings on that matter. And I really didn't think that anything I said, might be offensive, before you reacted. So, sorry."

"It didn't sound like referring to whatever economical shenanigans…"

"It's called globalisation." I joked but apparently there was no word for that process here and she didn't get it.

"Okay, it wasn't that for me. I saw it as you were referring to some black people in Kongo as almost slaves. That's what I call nazi bullshit and you never do it again."

"I'm kinda thinking here, remember?! I don't think I would've told you anything like that with, you know, my own tongue, mouth and all."

She was ready to have my ass handed to me, or to attempt to, but the arrival of her long gone brother stopped her in her tracks and she suddenly remembered that she can't hand my ass to anyone.

Her thought processes are funny and I definitely can see her bullying Taylor because no one she had any reason to respect ever told her that's unacceptable and not only told her, but made her stop once, thrice, and had any care about her's or Taylor's wellbeing.

It's hardly a secret that not only the bullied suffers personally from the process of bullying but all the bullies as well even those who just stand by and let it happen. Teenagers only look like young adults but their brains and psyche aren't.

I was teacher for one and half year. The student I knew as the guy who had horrible memory with dates but he was never shy to answer what he knew and was quite positive at it, ended up being bullied. I gathered that much when I stumbled upon other kids beating shit out of him.

Apparently, that kid thought if his parents won't care why would teachers, almost strangers, care? His father told him just to man up and hit back and, well, that's the time when the boy did hit back.

Bullying works like real life sometimes.

You don't hit neo-nazi scum when they are together, you hit em when they're alone…

Oops, I did it again. That's her shadowing out of me, and I don't really want that to happen.

Well, the girl is funny and has a head on her shoulders at least about money and her early emancipation and whatever she does on cape scene didn't make her crippled yet. That's what I would've done with the money if I wanted my family as far from the cape scene as possible. As far from me as possible, too.

Sophia was cold-bloodied in one thing and hot-headed in other - pretty much human and even understandable. I mean, her power is a nagging piece of crap, and I have the pleasure to feel it on my virtual spiritual skin all the time I'm here.

So, the only thing I must admit about myself and all the changes in my opinion on the matter, I got achievement unlocked - the huge bitch, who made Taylor's life hell, that huge bitch - successfully humanized.

***

The TV was on, and it was the morning show.

I thought they usually talk about health and children on weekend morning shows, but this one was about how capes must work with hero organisations instead of being rogues. I know nothing about the USA television broadcast but that seems a bit harsh to talk about when it's a sunny Saturday morning. As sunny as it can be in Brockton Bay, really.

“Well, Sophie, that’s something straight out of cat’s life, apparently.”

I just had to comment their opinion. Almost everyone was saying the same thing but differently. Go to Protectorate for help, don't be pendejos.

“What do ya mean, cats?”

She muttered that question under her nose because her brother might hear her, he was putting scrambled eggs on his plate. She poured cherry coke into the glass. Where did she get it? The answer is - someone is adorable and that was unexpected.

When her brother was on his way home, he already knew that she'd be angry for him wasting more than hour on buying milk. So, he knew it even before he received Sophia's snarl. That's why he didn't even put his jacket off, when he already handed her the bottle. He said something on the lines "you're grumpy today, so cherry up."

Sophia felt warmth then and smiled at him, even if her initial wish was to hit his shoulder and tell him he's an idiot. That made me choke on whatever witty thing I wanted to say about his probable journey to Boston. Her brother was kinda awesome, and she thought just that. I never had one, so I thought the same.

Terry thanked her for food and went to his room with his plate. That made me free to talk again and make it a dialogue not a monologue. The first thing she asked was something very much trivial and no less frightening.

“I don’t really drink something like this, using a glass. Why did I do that without thinking?” her voice was panicked but still really calm, considering the whole situation.

“Well, that’s my fault, I guess. If I have a cup to drink from, I’ll use it. Even if it’s a Redbull.“

"What the fuck is Redbull… Oh, okay, we don’t have that one here. Many others caffeine drinks at our service. No reason to worry, really. How do you think I'm still alive and kickin'?“

“It’s sugar that does the deed, not caffeine." I would've sighed if I could, because we were talking about pretty much insignificant things. I seemed okay with it because I continued. "Even coke looks up on Redbull if we talking about sugar. And it’s austrian, so I suppose when…For that matter just let me make a citation of my favourite man Roger Zelazny out of his Trumps of Doom I reread just before I appeared in your walnut-sized brain. When the most recent fecal missile met the rotating blades… I mean, when the fallen angel arrived in Switzerland, countries nearby were apparently a little bit butterflied."

“Fecal missile, huh,” she mirthlessly chuckled and got back to her previous question. “So, what’s with cats?”

“They tend to shove their shit under the rug and pretend it doesn’t stink. That’s what cats do if they don't have their litter box. And that’s what empowered people in your country do. I don’t mean anything when I say it about your country - that's how it works anywhere you might think of. So, don’t even start on me being russian and shitting on your democracy here, okay?”

“I didn’t…”

“So then, don’t. American high horse in politics honestly disturbs me in any world my consciousness is. Sorry, I totally tumbled upon your thought process and caught you thinking I don’t like your country because I’m russian. That's not it.”

“You do understand that I know about your country two things for sure." Sophia sighed. "Their mafia have the child slave trafficking in Anchorage. That was on the news, one of the operations of the local Protectorate that went good. And the second thing is they apparently don’t fight each other if they are criminals, or whatever. I was interested in cape scene when I triggered. You know the Internet, one leads to another and so on...”

“Oh, I know, and it’s even worse when you have your own laptop. So, I’ve read about the thing about russian cape scene, when I got to reading the wiki on Wormverse. That's how we call your world, so, try to get used to it. I'll probably use the word again," I admitted. "I remember nothing about what really matters, but damn it’s hard to forget how that guy who wrote the thing, McCrae or Wildbow, captured what any sane person would’ve done for making real use of parahumans, while not being one and not letting them band up into something as powerful as Protectorate is. Not that it helps them with Cauldron influence. Fuck it, Alexandria herself is a chief-director of PRT, how’s that good? Well, it is good for her and the power she has over everyone. But, really, I prefer honest to god criminal code for criminals, separation from normals and elimination of all threats to society by all parahumans involved, than all this brainwashing with heroics you get here. One more thing about Cauldron, could you even imagine that Eidolon is the one who created Endbringers because he needs worthy opponents and happens to be fucking bored out of his ass?”

She wasn’t speaking, but her lips tried to move. Even her thoughts went numb. How to undone what I said? My monologue was too overwhelming, it seems.

I think I broke her.

Figures.

She didn't even gulp her coke down.


	4. 2.3 Ice cream on the Boardwalk

**2.3 Ice cream on the Boardwalk**

_ **Or Something new about mind-merging and something old about bullies** _

Everything was much worse than I expected.

The USA is totally ruined for me now, really. It's like if you start your Russian touristic experience not from Saint-Petersburg or Moscow but from Magnitogorsk. The place where Europe and Asia meet, indeed, but you don't go there to make a first impression of Russia. They make steel there, not good impression on tourist hordes. And lots of air pollution, really.

Well, Brockton Bay is the cape capital for tourists, so if not for the cape scene it would've been a really sorrowful sight. The flying Rig of the Protectorate seemed not so far from the Boardwalk, but I knew it would take more than an hour if we decided to travel there. And the damn ferry would've been nice, because the Boardwalk and the Downtown must be connected with something more than roads.

The amount of traffic happening here is awful, I gathered that much when we ended up staying on the same corner of the same street in a bus, filled like there were no other transport at all. Not squeezed inside like canned dog food, but it would be a possibility if it wasn't a weekend morning. The amount of city transport is awful as well, not only the human mass inside of it. Differently awful, of course, I'd say - not nearly enough to make it less disasterous.

The main problem is fools and roads, as always… Why does it feel like home, I wonder. And why the hell those bureaucrats don't approve Danny Hebert idea to reopen the ferry, is definitely beyond my imagination.

"We'll need to look into it. It might be the Empire. Or others. It's kinda curious." Hess stated.

First I thought that she's talking to someone else - I wasn't paying attention while she was feeding the ice cream to the kid. This little girl was as adorable as any child could be, and I was looking where Sophia was looking and that was little Lori's face.

She wasn't talking about Laura's face, was she?

"Sopi, gimme moar!" The kid was jumping in her seat and got her tiny hands on Sophia's to make her pay attention.

Little one was demanding and pretty much talkative for a two year old. While we took the bus from home and then walked her to the cafe, I've gathered one quite important thing. Laura adored Scooby Doo, so she was considered another one kindred spirit in the Hess family. 

The first one was the hurting-nazis Sophia, of course. Even if I don't think I could've done the same in my own reality, the vigilante part of Sophia's life I really respected. This reality, it's unfortunatelly pretty gruesome. I'm not a fan of guns, violence and all that shit I would've known a lot about if I was fit for the Army. Funny thing about that, I've scheduled my eyes surgery two days after my 27th birthday, the age when I cannot be summoned anymore. No reason to hold onto something that made me unfit if they were able to make me join only if it's for some war so they'd have to mobilize everyone. Anti-militarist approach won't get me anywhere in the world like this one, I bet.

Nazis make all the difference, really.

It reminded me of Russian nationalists. Those were easily provoked by gastarbeiter, the migrant workers, part of non-russian society in the Federation, but it was never as bad as here in Brockton, I think. Neo-nazis always seemed to be the unnecessary evil that some of the government figures were ready to support for making the political move of divide et impera, to rule them all by letting them burn their steam in the wrong direction. I wonder, if it was the same shit here when they just started… Better they hurt each other for stupid reasons than they unite in one fist and fuck the acting authority with that same fist. I think, it's a working theory.

"Thoughtful much." Sophia murmured. Then I felt her eyes lose focus, and her fingers squeezed the spoon with ice cream. I felt those fingers like if they were mine. "I went deeper than I thought. Your thoughts are stupid!"

"I don't think so," I was a bit shocked, so my thoughts weren't that coherent or logical at the moment. "And we're not letting the kid to come in vicinity of some real Great Dane dogs, are we? Even if she asks, just don't do it without proper guidance. Those are pretty scary until you outgrow them. My neighbour had one when I was kindergarten, name's Oscar. I love dogs, I really do, but not the big ones, even if the idea seemed good just before I met Oscar. No, it was like Oscar's the one who met me, and I was shitting my pants trying to ignore him out of fear."

"Gimme!" Laura blurted, excitedly looking at the spoon of ice-cream in Sophia's hand.

The girl was so happy and unaware, I was… or maybe Sophia was, I don't quite get the difference right now, very much jealous. Lori wasn't aware of her sister's creepy crap in the head but, well, I was here too, so it wasn't crap anymore.

"Little tyrant you are," Sophia giggled and obeyed her sister.

"The one and only superior force you have upon you until you slip. Again." 

"Shut it," she exhaled and stopped smiling.

"Why should I? You genuinely seem to think that bully Taylor is as good option as any and even better - you won't have to lose your chewing toy. You can't be sure that whatever your little pack would think of won't make her trigger wrong and go Carrie on every-fuckin-one. It's Queen Administrator we're talking about, not your fucking dog of a power. We need to go to the PRT and…"

"That would put me on their leash!" she hissed. "And you do understand that I'm talking to myself instead of simply thinking whatever you need to know of my opinion. And it feels like you would hear all my thoughts only if we merge. You want it as much as I do. And I really don't. Like, at all."

"We can't help it, Sophia. It's already butterflied. It's unnecessary for you, inefficient even, to proceed with whatever Emma thinks right. Relax a bit. Study. Have fun. I can even help you with algebra. You could start learning how to play music, for fuck's sake! We all might die the next day, because someone could say something wrong to that golden offspring. And just get on with it! Just stop yourself when you have that urge to enjoy someone's weakness. You know that's not the only thing to enjoy in life…"

"I don't really care about Hebert," sighed Sophia and shook her head. "But I really care about my own well-being. And you didn't tell me I'd die. You told me about Alexandria and Eidolon. That info is as important as the info about my probable death. You would've told me, right?"

She managed to say it very slow and controlled, but I felt that she's doing it for her sister's sake. Her anger might frighten the kid. Not only anger? But fear.

"What did you think I was saying?" I asked because I felt it was somehow uncalled for. She had the same level of fear when I told her about the Triumvirate.

"You said, we might die. Why did that thought even come to your mind if not for some reason…"

"The Slaughterhouse Nine would be in the city after Leviathan hits. And Leviathan hits because there are those guys who come into the city because of Coil who wants to use them and those guys have one girl on a team… Clone spawning fucking eldritch horror and power error girl. Smurfed clone spawning fucking eldritch horror power error girl, if I might add."

"And by smurfed you mean…" she almost chocked on her whisper.

"Just like the guy who controls Siberian and the Mannequin, whose dream of tinker-heaven on the Moon was destroyed by Simmy and then he was fucked in the head by his family's death…"

She started coughing out her sprite - such a wrong move to accidentally drink anything while mindfully listening to the voice in your head, who's uncovering the best conspiracy ever.

"Guy who…" she coughed. "Siberian? What the fu… gly."

She looked at her sister who was eating by herself now… Meh, she was trying to at least. Sophia scoffed and started to wipe Lori's face with clean paper tissue.

"Forget about bugging Hebert..."

I would've laughed if I could when I understood that it was her method of hiding the "fuck" word not some knowledge of Taylor's future powers. It wasn't quite a laughing matter when she continued and I grasped what she said.

"How do we kill Eidolon?"


	5. 2.4 Balancing carrots and sticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprises carrots and sticks

2.4. Balancing carrots and sticks  
Or  
When surprises never end

"Well, apparently, we can manage it, despite whatever I said about… Well, it being just a mere fantasy."

"What do you mean by…"

She stopped in her tracks, seemed taken aback. She's seen it already, but somehow she was too wrapped in her mind to let it appear more important than her thoughts. I pointed it out, so not only I would be as freaked out as I am now, but she as well.

"What's that box doing here? It wasn't here when we left the room!"

"Don't even think of calling PRT. You did for a moment here. What's wrong with your spirit of adventure, kid? The box is for saxophone and I think I know who did it."

How could I not get the message, I wonder? It's quite easy to put two and two together, when there was a clear memorabilia of who put it on Sophia's bed.

"It's a hat."

Shadow Stalker pointed her slightly trembling finger at the black fedora. This case was actually quite worn and common. Why did Contessa bother herself with delivering someone's old sax just to make us feel intimidated, I think, I'll never know, but I did feel what she wanted me to, and so did Sophia.

"It's Contessa's fedora, and I think that's our carrot and stick both. But… I don't get one thing."

"What don't you get, it's a fucking threat, what's not to get here?! That Contessa you were thinking about, she's a teleporter, or what? Why saxophone? Why did she leave nothing but a hat and this case? Answer my goddamn questions! My brother was home all the time. He could've…"

"Her power is the Path to Victory. Always winning, never having fun. Duh, you can't have fun if you know that you gonna win. Just joking, because I'm fucking frightened, really. And, Sophia, you do understand that anytime I'm telling you that something might happen, that probably just means the thing I told you won't happen the way it happened."

"So, she's a precog level "fuck me sideways". And now what? Even if I might be able to ambush the Triumvirate somewhere in the future with the knowledge of Eidolon being the reason of motherfuckin' Endbringers appearing out of thin air, just like you suggested, and I still think that it's stupid and we won't live it through the hole they'll put me in. Even if it's a possibility, Kabaev, that's not getting us anywhere near the reason why she decided to send a message."

Her conclusion about Contessa's rating was quite accurate but I felt that I was missing something. Also, it was quite annoying, when Sophia showed me the depth of her ability to see my thoughts like I saw her's.

"Wow, you know my surname. That's creepy." - I decided to ask why she chose my surname specifically, it was quite important for understanding the real depth of what she knows. - "And what about name?"

"Not even try to make me learn how to properly say it! I know you don't even like it yourself. It's quite traditional and hard to shorten. It'd be better if I found you an alias anyway. Would be easier to pretend that I'm not a nutjob..."

Her depth of knowledge was more annoying than ever, really. She seems to be able to do the same shit I do to her - following thoughts until she can reach what she needed at the first place. I needed some retaliation.

"You said it yourself, Sophia! You have to pretend. So you do know you're nutjob. I was so worried, Sophie. So worried."

She started swearing, calling me all the things she could think of, and I really wanted to laugh at that, oh, only if I could, and she was clearly feeling all the mirth I was feeling, it kinda worked both ways right now. When she stopped her cussing at me her speech became more structured and she finally got to think on what that meant. She wasn't quiet, but I felt she needs it.

"So, when we were fantasizing about how one might destroy Triumvirate with this Eidolon thing, one of those ideas made sense to her powers, I assume. It probably isn't the one where you suggested asking Alexandria her opinion on our information and watching the result. I don't believe she'll believe and it won't end good for my well being, as I already said. And how would that precog know what we were thinking? And… how about Simmy and the fact that she's going to attack this winter? That Madison attack that's oh so important, you said, and if it gets screwed up in a good way so be it, it can't be worse, you said! Well, it can be! We're on the radar! And the whole bullshit didn't even start!"

"Stop shouting, fucktard!" - she was too loud for these walls of paper and I don't think her family would get it right if they hear her shouting things about cape bullshit. - "Your brother is in the house! And she's not just a precog. She's kind of mastered by her power, as well as I remember all those… Let's say, in a way all of you, parahumans, are mastered by your powers, Sophie, it's in your brain, after all. Why do you think your little nagging bitch haven't bothered you yet? You feel it, don't you? You're less spiteful, more collected, logically thinking for fucks sake! Yes, like when you're on one of your hunts but… somehow better because the promise of conflict isn't required and you didn't even think of going on patrol. It's because of your power being concentrated on nagging both you and me, so I feel it's attention even if I don't know how and you're quite used to it, so it's lacking… the bite?"

"Okay, dude, that's good that you vented and I'll try to stay calm...er, but I wasn't asking you what you said! My power works just fine, and if I feel good when you don't, it's beneficial for both of us, because my survival is in my hands, not yours, thank you very much!"

Sophia sat down on the bed, watching the case like she was thinking it'll nuke the neighborhood. Then she took the fedora in her hands and started absentmindedly playing with it like she didn't know what to do with her frustration when she couldn't shout or hit something. I answered her accusations and tried to explain why I was as useless as I was.

"Well, I got carried away, you know, I'm thinking here! And I don't fucking know whatever you asked. I wasn't going to write that damned fanfiction, wasn't making any notes or memorising timelines! I just read some shit about that goddamn Choose Your Own Adventure and thought that would be funny to write the chart..."

"Boring adult you are," - she smirked, I felt this mischievous attitude on our connection, and then she repeated what she said less than two hours ago, and that was a really good pun, considering the circumstances. - "With all those charts. Got something good out of them, I gather?"

"You think you're funny, huh?" - I asked her, while feeling her self-complacent mood when she looked in the small round mirror on her table.

She put the fedora on her head, adjusted the ponytail and some loose strands of hair that were out of place. No make-up, but I don't see if she even needs it. Pretty and sporty, dark eyes with some undeniable intensity in them, like she knew she shouldn't look that wrought-up but she wasn't able to stop it.

I'll have to get used to seeing anything but my pale dark haired muzzle on any reflective surfaces. It would be quite horrible when she'll have her periods. I heard some stories... Well, in the morning we established that peeing is okay. Why won't it be? I lived with women, so there's nothing I've never seen and I can't really embarrass myself with any possible inappropriate comments, because I'm thirty, not twelve, and I know when you shut it and do not mention again.

I was for a minute in my thoughts, so when she started talking to the mirror looking right into her eyes, I felt that she spooked me and looked me in the eyes, like, for real.

"If she doesn't want me to act on your knowledge, we'd have to stick to your initial plan, Kabaev. Or maybe I should call you the Creep while I'm in costume? It'll support the cape theme, and after all, you're gonna be stalking me like a creep for any foreseeable future…"

It turns out we were thinking about the same shit. How creepy that situation is and why the whole thing feels like it should've been somehow otherwise? Like, we shouldn't be talking and bonding, and I should be feeling the body like my own, adjusting to it's oddities, thinking to myself but not to someone who's in control, writing my goddamn charts about everything I remember and, finally, not joking around with the teenager that bullied Taylor Hebert and made her life hell with help of two others?

"If you start calling me that, I'll start calling you shadow bitch. And we'll be the best team ever. Till the death parts our ways," - I finally tried to joke back but suddenly it wasn't funny and her mirth vanished like it was never present.

"What do we do now?" - she asked and her tone was serious, dark and edgy.

"I don't fucking know. I think, we should just sleep on it."

"You're useless, you know it?" - she sighed and wondered back to the case. - "At least show me how to play it."

She opened the lock and I would be really glad if I could just take over the body and laugh like I laughed when Putin changed Constitution to make the term of his rule from four-year to six-year.

It was the one that's been called "Nenibredni" in the photo-review when I saw it first time. It was the actual tenor sax of B&S brand that had two engravings on it. One was, as is obvious, nenibredni. And the second one was Ahnenerbe. Ancestral heritage if you translate it from German. And the Nazi think tank, the SchutzStaffel appendage that was covering the justification of all the shit the nazis did. Nazis did play music as well.

I don't exactly want this saxophone anymore.

"It would be too loud, Sophia. It's a tenor sax, and you cannot play yet, so you'd be just producing loud noises for the first few weeks. Leave it be."

"We're going out then."

She closed the saxophone case and got her crossbow case from under the bed.

"I have to clean and oil it after each use,"- she provided me an explanation. - "Yesterday I was too tired to do it."

Crossbows do need maintenance as much as saxophones do, I gathered. So, it's case was even better than the saxophone one. Synthetic materials, no dirt on it, no Ahnenerbe engravements on what's inside…

"I think, I need some nazis to shoot as well, Shadow Stalker. And I also can play piano, flute and clarinet. So, find me one and we'll see what you can do with them. You don't learn how to play just one instrument if you're in it since you're four years old. By the way, do you have any music schools where you can study anything fundamental? Like, local ones?"

"They ain't free, you idiot. Be glad that the lady you're so afraid of took pity on you and gifted you the saxophone for your silence. It'd better be money but…"

Sophia readjusted her bag on the shoulder. Our secondhand fedora moved onto her eyes and when she couldn't make a catch, it fell down. Sophia followed it with her eyes while started feeling annoyed,but she couldn't drop her quite costly for her finances equipment. She gripped the bag tightly when her initial response was to go for a hat while losing the case, but that won't do. Apparently, you may hit someone with it, but some parts are fragile. So, she just followed the hat with her eyes and was rewarded. Fortuna was bullshit.

The silver and black piece of paper was hidden in the inside lining of the fedora.

It wasn't money.

It was a business card.


	6. Severe Cases of OOC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was saying I won't have any severe cases of OOC, so it's a sidestory, omake, whatever. Enjoy.

What would've been with my ShadowStalker SI fanfiction if I wrote OOC all around, but they are not as severe as they can be, so you'll probably recognize them all not only by names. 

BEWARE

Language, sex themes, kisses, accidents that make the plot. MAYBE EVEN SPOILERS WHO THE HELL KNOWS  
\--- 

Hellhound, Skitter, Regent, Tattletale, Grue and, apparently, his quite successfully triggered sister were surrounding me with all the ill intentions they were able to accumulate. They got me taped to the chair and there was electricity around me. Not the first time I really hated my rash decisions, but I tried to believe it wasn’t for nothing. I could’ve avoided it because there are some other ways to do what they wanted to accomplish.

“You know that I’m not working alone, don’t you?” - I decided to clarify what they knew about my involvement with any fractions. - “You do know who I’m working with, don’t you?”

“Yeah, your partner, what’s his name? The Hound? He’s not here.” - Grue coughed. - “Skitter?”

She shook her head and stayed silent, watching me like she wanted me to suffer. Perhaps she did, even if I had nothing to do with her trigger. It’s kinda obvious, because I was getting cured from severe radiation poisoning after what Behemoth did with that city, and that’s how I started to hang out with Panacea out of costume, really. When I came back, I had one sexual partner more and one, kinda, friend less. I gathered, they were able to do all this shit with tampons and blood without any intervention or help from me. Truly, people don’t need powers to fuck someone up. One thing made me happier - Mads didn’t even know about their plans. She was so fucking stuck on thinking that’s her fault as well, I had to revitalise our connection, so the number of sexual partners at once was two for the first time in my not so long life.

So, about all this situation I’m in right now… I wasn’t in the Wards this time around, but I did have affiliation with the PRT because Piggot knew her needs and she clearly needed someone like me. So, I had some minor access and all that. That’s why this Under-villains could use me. I was sure when I was scheduled to patrol with Flechette and we did the whole patrol thing quite successfully until I got the message from my Stalker about the Nazi-gathering, if today I run into Skitter, I’d run into them all, and I went with it anyways.

Chased her, silently and methodically, seeing red and feeling the need to finally make it somehow more honest. Well, my Stalker told me what happened to me in that story as he remembered it. I knew what would happen after Leviathan if Taylor saw my face in the hospital. I knew this would happen, because he knew it as one of those things that made the plot of the story he told me. And the thing was - apparently, Taylor becoming Khepri was one of those points that Contessa needed to happen when her Shard knew that it will make Scion fail.

It’s still too hard to grasp, but I’m living it, I’m changing it in little things, but it feels like it doesn’t work. But I try, no, We try, and the day he told me that I should go and find something good in all the shit around me, was the day I first went to play sax for public. Also the first day I met her. The runaway blonde girl in worn out clothes, who basically accused me of playing on the stolen instrument after asking me about the meaning of the engraving on it. Talkative, smart, pretty. Last one I was ready to admit without any doubt when she used my bathtub.

She told me then, her name’s Liv.

Me and my Stalker didn’t even get that’s Tattletale, until I heard her talking with Grue one day. Not whispering, not shouting in the fight, but talking.

I was angry that day. I shot Grue, a lot, that day. He lived, I got scolded by my Stalker and, well, it seemed not right to end things with her leaving me. And I was feeling used and a bit more broken than before, as my accidental helper said the day I was slobbering in that same bathtub. The day I thought, that it was all lies, and even if I never told her about being parahuman, she never said she’s ace. I didn’t even care she said nothing about her own parahuman abilities, but we had sex! I never wanted to force anything on her. I would’ve never even tried to do anything more than kiss her, if I knew she doesn’t like it.

That’s why I couldn’t believe she’s Tattletale at first. It seemed so real.

“It’s you,” - I choked it out, biting my cheek from the inside, and they, all of them, stared in the eyes of my hound-mask. - “It’s you, Liv. I heard you talking. And you smile right now. You smiled and talked a lot, even if I know now…” - now I choked on the fuckin’ lump in my throat but I’m not going to let her hear that. - “You weren’t fuckin’ real!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tattletale’s smile looked strained, but I knew she doesn’t care for real, well, she didn’t when we were an item, so why would she start now?

She just turned her face to Skitter, Taylor I mean, who was a bit startled when I accused her teammate of being someone I know. Well, that’s just awesome. I can’t really say that I know her as well, can I? She’d just get her creepy crawlies into my mouth and I end up like the alternate version of Alexandria, really. I’m a nutjob, as my Stalker loves to remind me, but it’s the life that makes us like that, not the… well, powers too, but the life was doing it to people even when Zion wasn’t in the picture. So, logically thinking…

“Did you hit her too hard?” - Tattletale asked without any hint of worry in her features or voice, interrupting my thought process, so it caused me to speak again.

I wasn’t really paying attention to whatever bullshit she was spitting out. I just said what I needed to say for so long. I was going to open this abscess up.

“Well, then, that just means that’s not your name and you’re going to pretend you don’t know me. Why’s that? What I did to you to deserve this shit?”

She didn’t answer. She nodded to Regent and he sat down. Others were going to leave us alone, but I didn’t want this to end like that. Her eyes were empty, she wanted nothing to do with me and I didn’t know why. We were alright. She could’ve just talked to me and wouldn’t be that stuck on her. And I’m not that Sophia whom my Stalker despised and pitied both. With his inability to move out of my body for the first time he had to take care of me when he deemed it necessary. That’s how he made me understand why I should care.

It’s easier when someone cares back.

So, I started humming, and they stopped their movements, looking at me like I grew the second head. What? I’m playing sax, music’s in my veins because of my Stalker, so, what did they want from me? Shouting? Pointless and not good for the voice, especially after the electrocution they put me through. Regent even joked again, and it was even funny somehow.

“You’re not the Canary, Stalker,” - he snickered. - “Not your power, really. You’ve seen your files, right?”

Tattletale’s eyes were wide and green and she locked them with mine. She remembered.

“Hail,” - I started, hoarsely. - “What’s the matter with your head? Ye-yeah! Hail, what’s the matter with your mind and your sign! Oh-oh, Hail, nothing the matter with your head, baby, find it, come on and find it, Ha-a-ail, with it baby ‘cause you're fine and you’re mine, look so divine! Come and get your lo-o-ve…Come and get your lo-o-ove!”

Regent used his scepter on me again and it wouldn’t be pleasant if he used taser, but he just hit me with it like it was a baton. I was quite used to it, so I din’t even flinch, but unfazed, while being unmoving, and he started swinging it again.

“Stop!” - I heard what I wanted to hear. - “Stop this."

“Tell me why,” - I asked her almost solemnly. - “We were good. What happened?”

“It’s not me,” - she hissed, and I saw her crying like if she cared, but it said nothing if it weren’t words, loud and clear. - “It’s you.”

“What does she mean, Tattletale? Why does she… Knows whatever she knows?”

Grue was nervous but he wasn’t raising his voice. I didn’t like the guy, mostly because I felt we were almost alike, when my Stalker told me his story. And this dude never even thought to act like a hero. Or maybe he thought, but he didn’t act, so it doesn’t count, because of whatever was happening in his life, I don’t really want to know.

First, I thought that’s her thing, she just left me for that guy. And that’s actually why I start shooting before I think it through - if I don’t think at all and let myself get as cold as I can, as numb as I need. Not good, he always said. And I know why it isn’t good now, it lacks real control over the situation.

“You see...”

I started saying it very much patiently, controlling my anger and trying to settle with the thought that the wish to make things right with Liv… Tattletale, or whatever she’s calling herself now, wasn’t the best idea, when I knew how it ended in the story where I never played music and never told Emma to go fuck herself after my first Endbringer fight.

“I don’t think she has something good to say,” - this blonde bitch interrupted me and her eyes were flashing, but I didn’t know with what, I’m not a fuckin’ Gallant. - “She’s just messing with our heads.”

“I thought that’s your thing, Tats,” - Regent cracked a joke, but I saw him play with his electrified skepter with more nervousness than before. - “Is she…”

“I fucked her and she fucked me up,” - I said it without any preamble, as if we needed more. - “We were together since she came into this city and saw me playing my sax on the Boardwalk, and that was late November, so she looked cold. I let her stay in my apartment because she seemed okay and I don’t have any valuables there anyways. At first it was an awkward friendship, but I made it clear that I don’t want to be friendzoned when I like someone as much as I liked her.”

“You play saxophone,” - whispered Taylor, forgetting that she supposed to talk with the help of her little friends.

She might’ve heard me playing, after all, sax is pretty loud and I was practising almost all the lunchtime and sometimes on the rooftop of the old building of our school. No one ever cared, except those who were in the repetition group. How are they, I wonder?

I was hanging a lot around Emma those days, so showing this lanky girl how things work in real life, or whatever I thought about our extracurricular activities, were part of my routine, but I wasn’t much into it when my time was possessed by making money for emancipation and finding fun and relaxation with saxophone or piano. Or visiting Grandmother, when she was inclined to accept my help and attention. Anyways, all this shit wasn’t about Taylor, and I’m not even afraid to butterfly anything, because I haven’t succeeded even after all these months of doing all kinds of things I would’ve never done in the timeline my Stalker knew.

“Well, you get that my identity is hardly a secret amongst your friends, Skitter. So, I decided to start with the beginning. Don’t you see it’s better?”

“Better than what, exactly?” - asked Grue and crossed his hands on his chest.

“Better than just tell you all something like, hullo, guys, there’s high probability I almost killed Grue because I was jealous of Tattletale, who is my ex. And I thought her being dead or whatever for more than two months, or something. And she obviously lied to me, used me even if she didn’t need to, and it’s not the fucking end of it! She didn’t even try to tell me that she’s gone for good and won’t be coming back! Thank you very much, you fucking stupid little bitch who couldn’t even think that it’s not fucking good to withdraw the information of your goddamn health especially in this shithole of the city! I was worried!”

“Shut your mouth! I don’t like to be called stupid! You’re...”

“Thank you fucking very much for putting my mask off my face! I so don’t like to be unable to look into your lying green eyes and ask just. One. Fucking! Thing!” - I was shouting right now and it was pretty much teenage drama I never really liked. - “Why the fuck didn’t you just write me a note? I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for this suspense!” 

“Whad’da ya mean you wouldn’t be here?” - the girl, Grue’s sister, asked. - “Did you know it’s a trap?”

“Of-fuckin-course I knew it’s a trap! Not a crappy one, but I wanted to be here, so I’m here.”

“You do understand, that I’m a master, right?” - asked Regent, frowning. - “And you knew it when you came here.”

“You know, it really bothers me when you try to electrocute me. You see, my powers don’t let me feel everything like others. Can’t feel pain like a normie, it’s like sensory neuropathy or something, but power-induced. That’s what Amy said, anyways. Something with brain, too, but she doesn’t touch brain. I suspect, it’s partially empathy and all that kind of shit, because really, Liv, or whatever your real name is, all the time we were together I was thinking you’re okay with how things proceed. ”

“All the time… All the time you were lying to me, Sophia. And I wasn’t even interested in the relationship with you at first, really. You just made it seem so easy and…”

“I lied to you only in those things that were connected to cape shit,” - I shrugged and it hurt my wrists somehow, I don’t even know how exactly. - “You didn’t tell me your story too. I’ve been… burnt once. She was not the best person to know my identity, really. Ended up being mental...”

“You were in a relationship while being with me,” - she said it so tiredly, like it was obvious, but I couldn’t even fathom in what she said, but she continued, It wasn’t over then? - “You were telling me it’s your first time and my power was telling me that you know what you’re doing, and you’ve been doing it before many times. You were saying that you like my smile, so my power provided me with the fact that it reminds you of the person you truly despise. The only thing that was okay was sex, because your breaker power somehow changed my perception of your body, or I don’t know. It doesn’t work when you touch me.”

“You’re crimson,” - I smiled, satisfied, but she scoffed and others were clearly nervous, not knowing what to do with whatever their plans are. - “And I didn’t lie. Let me uncover you a little cape secret of mine. I work with Toybox, Liv, and I had access to the memory tinker because I’m that cool of a hero and, well, I was in the group that birdcaged Acidbath, you know that right? I had some cash those days.

“You weren’t just in the group, Shadow Stalker,” - Tattletale gasped and her tears were almost gone already. - “You… you put it together? Why?”

“Do you remember my dream you laughed that much about?”

“Oh, yeah. I laughed because that lie was at least funny, Sophia. You always lied, I told you already…”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the dream, huh? And why Tat’s face is that pale?” - Regent was bored out of his ass, but he at least tried.

“I dream of having picnic on the grave of Heartbreaker while drinking my coffee from the skull of Jack Slash. ”

“And for that, she said, she needed to befriend Bonesaw.”

“Well, that part was a lie. Panacea can do too, really.”

Regent was laughing like a madman and I joined him but he poked me with his stick and I didn’t appreciate it.

“Oi, what for! Why did you hit me? I’m cooperating here!”

“He’d master you, idiot.”

“That’s why I needed Bonesaw, you see, the girl is awesome with nervous system control, she could’ve probably made the unmastering device and get rid of Jack Slash indoctrination.”

“She believes that Bonesaw is misunderstood. And Jack Slash is a secret master of the whole Slaughterhouse, so if you kill Jack others would try to kill each other,” - explained Tattletale. - “She’s like that, okay, don’t look at me, guys! My power didn’t work when I touched her, so I used it for having an experience…”

“Awesome one,” - I was smug because the main worry of her not being satisfied or even interested but still having sex with me was evaporated. That’s the worst thing! - “It was the awesome experience, I have to add. And he can’t master me.”

"Why not?” - Tattletale clenched her fists. - “And how’s that you haven’t lied to me all those times? You were in that relationship, and you weren’t honest with me! I can’t be mistaken…”

“Well, my only continuous relationship except you was the girl who knew my identity because I got some kind of childhood crush on her while saving her. And we weren’t fucking, god bless me from that shit. I’m pretty sure she’s straight or too closeted for anyone’s liking. Now I’m kinda having it with Amy, I mean, Panacea because we were hanging around for some time. I got too much radiation on the last Behemoth attack, you see. She needed to relax and I gathered, the best method is to fuck it out.”

“You… you attended.” - Tattletale was close to me now, was touching my face now. - “You fucking attended. How… Oh, yes, you’re emancipated, yes.”

“And I’m quite suicidal. Uh-huh. Heroic, I mean. It’s okay, you either save people, or save yourself if you can’t save people. My power is quite useless in use on other people if I’m not trying to attack them, but if I have a tinker tech medkit and some means to communicate. And, er… What’s wrong with Skitter?”

The bugs were buzzing and skittering around but they were kinda chaotic. I didn’t like the view, like, at all.

“The last attack of Behemoth was just before my trigger.” - she managed to squeeze it out of her creepers and I almost gulped.

“Well, okay, and? Are you… connected?”

“You were… in the hospital those days?” - she didn’t answer on my question, but she asked her own. And I didn’t get why at first.

“All my Christmas and New Year, yes. The best New Year was with you, though, - I looked at Tattletale. - “You remember the song, so you had some good feelings as well.”

“You’re kind of… innocent?” - Taylor neither stated, nor asked.

“Hm, I’m… I’ve killed people? That helps? And innocent in what?”

She started to do something weird with her mask and I heard a short “fuck” from Grue.

Whatever. I already knew it’s Taylor when I chased her, so when her hair fell down on her cheeks I looked at Tattletale and asked.

“Now tell me if I’m lying. I had a guess that’s Taylor the first time I saw Skitter in action.”

“You are. Fuck you and your bitch of a power,” - Tattletale smiled and I saw something warm blossoming in her eyes, so I angled my face and tried to reach her face in a caring peck.

I wished to do that since the day she fuckin’ left without any warning.

We kissed like I wasn’t taped to the chair and that wasn’t making my hands hurt.

“It’s not love,” - she said without any doubt.

“It’s not love,” - I confirmed half-heartedly.

“You’re lying.”

“You’re wrong.”

The kiss was good, and Taylor was standing there, blushing and trying to avert her eyes.


	7. Interlude 1. Contessa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contessa was sleep deprived

Interlude 1. Contessa

Contessa was sleep deprived for quite some time.

She had no understanding on why the numbers went that much lower. Doctor Mother wasn't aware yet because it happened when Contessa was working with Kurt Wynn, the cape famous in some pretty much enclosed circles by the alias of the Number Man. She needed him being aware of some quite important changes on her Path for him to complete his tasks properly.

She had those little changes every now and then. They usually came with every little trigger event that changed anything and every Endbringer threat and every magnanimous gesture of the Creature and any involvement of Eidolon in basically anything. So, it wasn't a rare occurence to find herself changing the Path and consulting with others on those changes.

She made her latest Step that involved Kurt, sighed while trying to relax her power and remind herself that she'd be drinking tea in less than an hour if she won't stop her work now. So, she was willing to bounce into the next Door to finally get rid of the obstacles between her and her precious hot cup of tea when she heard a shuddering gasp after she's been asked her last question.

"There's something wrong, Contessa," - he said that looking into her eyes when she turned back to see what's going on with him. - "I recalculate twice when the matter is of this importance, you see. So, I asked you twice for the same data to confirm it. Something's just changed."

"Endbringer? Eidolon? Scion?" - she asked and evened her breathing that's become erratic when she couldn't shape a Path to knowledge of what happened. And then she recoiled. - "Maybe just a trigger?"

"Changes are too drastic to be of... such sort, I think. And it's not good."

The Number Man ended up being almost hysterical when he didn't get any answer from her - the twitching of both of his eyes told her that much. She wasn't a mind reader or social cues reader or any type of social thinker that knew what they do but she was aware that if she didn't know what to do she needed to ask a question.

"What do I do, Number Man?"

Her voice sounded collected because she knew he'd think of something that would help him.

Kurt looked at her like she had something on her face, eyes unblinking and jaw chewing on something that wasn't there. She didn't know what to think of such an expression, so she settled on frowning. It usually did the thing.

The Number Man sighed, murmured something incomprehensible and made a simple request.

"Path how to make my first result relevant again, and lets get it from there, Contessa. Maybe we'll get some clues on how..."

She stopped listening to his rant - he could do that for a very long time when he was nervous - and created a new Path.

"I know how to change it back," - she announced and put a steady step forward, showing Kurt her opened palm.

He was a bit flabbergasted but the look on his face was the last concern of the other thinker when she entered such a deep state of connection with her power. Kurt was undoubtedly used to manifestation of her powers, so it was something else that worried him.

"That easy?" - he asked and the awe in his voice was almost tangible.

She allowed herself to smile at him and felt something ticklish in her chest while being looked up and down with such a strong emotion for their pretty much close but professional relationship. He was calm and collected almost all the time they've seen each other, worked with each other, and even if he did anything considered friendly towards her, most of the time she was unable to act out of her Path.

"I need your business card, Number Man," - she felt the faint surprise while saying such a thing but he quickly got what she needed and sent her a smile back.

"Good luck," - his tone was mocking, maybe, but the warm ticklish feeling never receded.

Until her hand reached for her favourite fedora - it lasted for three months already, so why now?! - in some low key household of some sort. She put a black rectangular box with something weapon-like heavy. This box she retrieved from some dusty pawnshop stockroom to leave it on a single bed. She hid Number Man business card in her fedora lining.

Leaving her hat on the box wasn't mentally easy but it felt right to her Path, so there was nothing she could change about it. She wasn't even able to sneak a peak even if she wanted. Her Path demanded to Door back to Kurt and check for results. Contessa paused for a second - Alexandria and Kurt were those who have been asking her to look into what she's doing for it not to backfire on the Cauldron itself, and they've been doing it for years now, so she tried to comply. When she heard a sound of the door slamming somewhere on the first floor, she stopped in her tracks and make the last steps of her current Path.

"Door me to the Number Man."

After she stepped out of a portal, Kurt looked at her with a question in all his features and she nodded.

"Ask!"

"What are the data now?"

Contessa mindlessly answered and he made his impossible calculations again.

A small smile on his face was the only indication of those resulting numbers going back...

"It's even better!"

If anyone looked at Contessa right then and there, while Number Man was internally cackling and checking his calculations for obvious precautions, they would've seen some comically wide eyes.

That wasn't what she asked of her power, but if the results are better, then no one should complain.

"Thank you, Fortuna. It was real luck we could change it this easy that fast. Maybe go get some rest?"

His tone of voice was suggestive and she really liked that her inevitable Path to a really good cup of tea was lessened. Dozen of steps just vanished like that. Why's that?

"I'll tell Alexandria," - Kurt got his cell out and then explained, while his barely noticeable smile grew. - "You lost your hat, you know this? Go get some rest. Somehow I doubt you don't need it."

Contessa felt her insides tickle again and decided that he was right.


	8. 2.5 Lack of conversation

2.5 Lack of conversation

Or How to make a bullheaded teenager listen to you when you can't hit them with one of your slippers

"Ama baaad guuuuy turu tururururu turu tururururu!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

That's how we ended up communicating when she decided to play grumpy cat, may the earth be fluffy to his resting body, or whatever those ancient romans said. I mean, grumpy's dead in my world, so... And here, well, there's no Grumpy. I actually need to search him up, the little dude is kinda really relaxing and the world of memes might never be the same if there's no Grumpy...

I'm out of my mind if I'm really considering the grand search for good memes my priority. Well, I really am out of my mind, strictly speaking, so there's no reason not to think about such an impossible thing. Sophia Hess in memetic haze? No, sir, not happening. She never experienced this relaxed state, like, ever. I pity her.

But it so doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing what I'm doing. She disappointed me, so I'm gonna drive this little bitch mad.

Lets just start from the beginning, won't that be more, I don't know, reasonable?

The girl was quite sullen and kind of resigned while oiling her weapon. She had lots of thoughts on the matter of Contessa, the business card the Fedorable delivered. All this unbelievable shit about Scion being the loose cannon that's hanging on the wall and doomed to shoot, it was beyond scary, and therefore she wanted nothing to do with it. She told me this and I understood is as it was, plain and simple, she's afraid just like I am. Me being an ass wasn't provoked by this revelation.

That's the other thing Sophia told me that was a good reason for me to start messing with this girl on the whole next level of catchy songs in a really bad shouting voice.

She said she'll continue doing those petty things to Taylor. She decided it would be the best course of action. That seemed sudden, but it happened after she received some random message from Emma about how the redhead is glad that Sophia agreed to go shopping with her the next day, so I connected these two things and I didn't like it, not in the slightest. This Emma girl somehow made Sophia's thoughts go the other way. Sophia Hess declared that there's no reason for her to stop doing the shit she's been doing for the last half year, so that won't be suspicious. I got it, really, but I needed reasons. And I got none, so...

So, that was it, she told me she'd be going out today as Shadow Stalker to check her powers after my arrival - and that was kind of reasonable. She won't be able to fight as good as she does if she's not sure in her movements and her powers. But I didn't like the idea of Taylor suffering. I'm a grown ass man and I'd be watching it from the first row and won't be able to do anything about it, really.

There was one thing, but I do not want to make this body mine, don't wish to assume direct control of it, like, at all, so there's nothing I could do but insufferably irritate Sophia to break her resolve, so she'd speak to me like an adult human being.

I forgot she's a teenager.

Apparently, it gives her Stubbornness 70lvl and it started to irritate me as well. Maybe it'd be better if I try singing metal?

"THEY CAN'T STOP US LET THEM TRY! FOR HEAVY METAL WE WILL DIE"

"Shut it!" - her voice sounded lazy even.

Not working. She's still not willing to talk to me.

See, I was willing to talk it out, find a way to stop her from acting on these whims, or whatever this is, but she just closed off and started her preparations for going out.

She did her homework while telling me to shut it, for fucks sake! I'd be breaking pens with my fingers clenching if I was her, but I think her nagging bitch of a power made her quite a zen-buddhist monk when there's no nagging bitch of a power. I mean, who'd be that calm in these circumstances?

I'd be seething, really.

I am seething, really!

"Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk to you again..."

She groaned and put her forehead on her fists and I continued singing in her head.

Maybe she'll be talking to me by the end of the hour after all.

***

I've been singing all the verses of "What does the fox say" last ten minutes and she'd better be glad I won't ever be rehearsing "I wash my ass like a man" for a teenage girl. Even if she's a bitch she's still a girl in her early teens and I can't help but think that no one deserves this song stuck in the head for the next month. That's what happened to me at the time...

So, I did The Fox song and she's been repeatedly beating her forehead on the table.

"Stop it! Stop it! Enough!"

"You better start to explain why you suddenly decided to continue acting like a bitch. The way I see it, you have more than a year to get your shit together. If you play your cards right you'd be..."

"Are you really that dumb?" - she asked me incredulously and I shut my gob just trying to comprehend.

That's my line here she's using, isn't she?

"What do you mean, Sophia?"

"Oh, are you for real?! Just imagine, we stop bully Taylor, so she won't trigger, right?"

"She'd be able to, still..."

She didn't let me finish.

"So, that's exactly why she came here and showed us our place! Not because of Eidolon. I didn't make a decision to kill the guy, we were just joking around. Do you agree?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"The only decision we collectively made during that outing was to stop this bullying because it takes time and effort, as you put it. I mean, I still don't get why I would be that invested in fucking her up in the future. I really hate amoebas in people's shells, and she definitely seems like one, whatever you say about her being a supervillain who saved the world. It probably were here powers, I mean, if that worked for me and I ended up being more rambunctious, why wouldn't it work for her?"

"Well, you might be on something here, Sophie, but it doesn't sit right with me to allow you to, well, be a bully. It's a waste of your resources, even if you don't mind hurting other people. It serves nothing and accomplishes nothing."

She nodded her head in agreement but it didn't stop her from continuing her nonsense that might not be that nonsense after all. She was onto something, I give her that.

"There's no other reason for this Fedorable lady to do something to us if it doesn't concern Taylor's trigger event. What you told me about Skitter and Slaughterhouse or Panacea and Slaughterhouse, or Echidna... There are lots of things that might make the world end much faster. Honestly, don't you get it? If I manage to repeat what I did, she'll get to save the world. I don't see her having the same trigger event with bugs and shit if there's no Emma who despises her, no Madison who picks on her just for kicks..."

"And no you," - I understood what she meant and it had lots of sense in it, actually. So, my mood was dead serious when I replied to her, completing her explanation for both of us. - "You, who showed her since she met you how insignificant and weak she is. And she met your agression with her trying to abide by the rules, be civilised, go to the authorities..."

"And most of it never happened. So, bullying has to go on," - concluded Sophia and put her forehead in her palms while continuing to talk to me. - "You told me dozen of times already how I'm a sociopath, so I gather I'll manage. She's just a prey after all, at least until she gets her powers. I'll keep on following Emma's shit. I'm pretty sure that's what I did in your story. Let me give her that, she's smart enough to pull off the whole campaign without me really being in the loop. I think, I'd care about the results, not the process, when the process doesn't include me..."

She ended up mumbling the last two sentences under her nose, lost in the thought. Well, fuck, she might be right again, after all Sophia knows the redhead better than I do, and Taylor in the book had no real idea about the inside workings of her personal trio of bullies. Not that I'm the best person who can answer if anything like that came up in Worm. I can remember the whole chain of events in Harry Potter series with names of characters and details of environment, but I'm in Wormverse, and I never read it and was never going to read it as much as I read HP.

I regret nothing.

"Well, it's not my story," - I had to clarify because I wasn't so sure I'd be able to ever pull off writing something as depressed as Worm and never wanted even a shadow of recognition for writing such a thing. - "And you clearly aren't a proper sociopath, or you would've understood long time ago that all kinds of people are useful and you'd be manipulative and charming enough to seem okay to most of them. That's how sociopaths operate, I think. So the verdict is you're not one. You got fucked in the head by agression and all that's happened to you, and you're not a good person either, but girl, we both know you're not that high on your power anymore."

"You don't get to analyze me, you're not even qualified for it! Let the pros do their jobs, dude. Not that I'd let them," - she rolled her eyes and nervously snickered. - "And don't try to get away with it - you didn't think of what I thought of, so you're finally compromised as a big dumbass I just felt in the guts you are!"

She even let herself halfheartedly laugh a bit and then I felt her surprise when she restrained her show of emotions.

"Oh man, I don't know where it came from. I mean, I'm playful. Kinda. With you, the guy who might master me if I get too curious or he, I mean, you get to curious. Fuck the shit we're in and you know, you creep. You are."

"Amen to that! Not a creep though."

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"Fuck you, not happening."

"Playful, she said."


	9. 2.6 Simple struggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update of this chapter starts with ***

2.6 Simple struggles

Or How to delegate and disillusion.

"Honestly, Sophia, this shit confuses me."

"Don't say." - she was clutching this damned book, trying not to throw it out of window, and I felt her being ridiculously angry while engaging such a mundane task as a simple homework. - "I don't know what the fuck he needed when he told that we can choose what we would be writing about. Just give this damn assignment, right? Why should I do his job for him, goddamit!"

"That's not what confuses me, Sophia. I'll give you directions on your essay if you wish so, no worries here. It's actually really good this Gladly guy lets kids think for themselves in their assignments. I'm talking about the paragraph you're reading. It's like total bullshit and makes no sense. You really don't have the globalisation here like we do. I mean, this waste of paper is basically about some awful catastrophes, some global organizations and how they fuck up when it comes to reality interfering with their plans. And it also looks a bit like social theories class to me, but ideological aspect has a substitute in parahumans. Basically, it seems like parahumans are your ideology..."

Sophia scoffed and started clicking her pen in obvious irritation.

"You're not helping. Either you help with this shit or shut up."

"You want me to start singing again, Sophia?" - I didn't like her dismissal but, well, that wasn't anything unexpected.

The girl wasn't really interested in my musings about this school subject but noone really asked Sophia's opinion, so I told her to suck it up. I didn't really try to confuse the girl with making her think about school indoctrination when she was the subject of such indoctrination, but I couldn't just stay silent while reading the book that was filled with pointless water-like sentences to the brim.

So, we were trying to craft a home assignment on her World Issues class and we both knew it would be happening on Monday and we both weren't looking in the future with any sort of good feelings.

"We could find and torture Gladly into submission and he'd leave the school," - she came up with some kind of solution, even if it's that unimaginative, real fast after she understood that we're going in circles instead of doing anything worthwhile.

"I incline to disagree, Sophia, we must refrain from fucking up civilians. I was a teacher and I think this guy was trying to give you an opportunity to express yourself, or something like that... It's good, even."

"I don't want to express myself," - she rolled her eyes. - "I wanted to be done with it as fast as I could, really."

"That's why any normal teacher should've made up several some basic themes and let you know it's mandatory to discuss the other suggestions via email or after the class. Are you sure you didn't sleep through his lesson, or something?"

"Fuck you very much! What a question is that?!"

"Wrong answer, Sophie. Lets wrap it up as fast as we can, really, there's also tomorrow for getting this shit done, if you don't feel like it right now."

"Well, yeah," - Sophia shrugged. - "I don't see it being more relevant than finaly getting to check on my powers after your invasion. It's almost 9 p.m., so I'll go sleep for a couple of hours, wake up somewhere around 1 a.m and fuck off into the night. But I'd really like not to continue this struggle tomorrow. Just be useful once in a while, would you?"

As crappy as she is at asking things, I was ready to help.

I mean, I didn't get to experience anything really parahuman yet, so I was sort of excited to go out and play with her powers, even if I'd be staying like that, lacking the ability to communicate with anyone but Sophia and also lacking the ability to really feel.

Not that those powers are anything particularly exciting, I might add. What a joke of a power - turn into a cloud that can be fried by a wall it passes through.

Nothing exciting at all.

***

"This is not how I thought it would go!"

"Don't I fuckin' know it!" - shouted Sophia and her voice sounded quite unusual under both balaclava and hockey mask she wore as part of her costume.

She swan dived off the hood of the truck to hide her ass from all the bullets these nazi fuckers wanted to shower her in.

"I was wrong, that's quite exciting!" - I would've grinned if I could, it was this awesome. - "They are shooting at us and it's not working! Such a lovely weekend!"

"And you say I'm fucked in the head?" - she huffed and started to reload her crossbow. - "Lovely my ass, you creep! I'm thinking..."

"Oh, you are?" - my mirth was probably palpable at that point.

"Don't you start again," - she murmured and rolled her eyes. - "So, I was thinking..."

She couldn't continue her thought because she had to become her usual silent cloud of some dusty intangible matter - the enemies took the opportunity and circled on us, not stopping to shoot occasionally.

That was a mundane and quite minor nazi rally in Brockton Bay. It was more like cosplay convention, really. Much more violent, but still.

Or that's what she said.

This rally didn't have any heavy hitters, there were no capes at all - and there was no reason for them to call their higher ranks. No way they'll risk the ire of their capes. It was obvious in how they worked against her, they knew Shadow Stalker has all means to escape faster than those capes arrive. She didn't fight to kill either, even if she really wanted to.

Something like this rally happened before and not just once. The first one was at the start of her cape career and she's always lucky like that - her timing was almost flawless, she never encountered Empire capes in a fight even when she had an opportunity. That's actually why she survived that long without any solid back up. Her luck will certainly end, but right now when I felt her power and the adrenaline that automatically goes with it... I kind of understand how such an euphoric state might backfire in the future, for one.

Her power was anything but exciting if you just think about what it does and not feel it. No one can argue that when you think of superpowers, mind goes to flying around with fist in the air and proud S on your chest, to having a supersonic speed and lightning cracking around or to some badass tinker devices and suits that go beyond whatever humanity has already accomplished.

There's no child who'd be dreaming about Shadow Stalker power, of that I'm sure.

But she's basically shrugging off bullets when she's in this cloudy state, and she's really good with timing her movements and assessing the environment, so there's high possibility it's her minor power or something.

Nobody moves that calculated while being a fourteen years old. Or maybe that's what they call ageism and I'm the bad case of it, not that I'd be aware of it if it was like that.

Stalker shot her newly prepared bolt, thoroughly scratching the limb of the closest nazi and making him stop shooting, then she picked up the baseball bat and threw it, while still being intangible. The bat was a shiny pretty thing, I'd say, made of steel and leather, even customized with 88 on the barrel. Fanatical much?

So, the bat went right into the face of that dude, who had something resembling Uzi. It resembled the only SMG I knew in it's suppressing characteristics, obviously not the looks of it. I'm unable to discern one brand from another. It probably isn't Uzi, though it would be funny. I do remember that Uzi submachine gun was being produced in Israel.

The Neo-nazi fuck using a very much "jewish" weapon to kill a black girl who has at least one white grand parent and a very german surname - that would be fucking hilarious! Or maybe I really am fucked in the head because of all that's happened and the irony isn't really here.

Being anti-militarist and having a very low interest in the history of weapons, I'd be really surprised if I could identify this annoying SMG in the dark of the night while being shot at. The only reason I remember anything about Uzi is because when I was on vacation at Jerusalem, I got into a bit of trouble after one of their friday prayers and then, naturally, I got into the heated conversation with one middle-aged Yasam officer - the guy who has the actual governmental permission to kill, for fucks sake.

I felt immortal in my twenties, really.

So, he was professional enough, because I stayed alive when we ended that conversation. After realizing I wasn't making any trouble and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was kind enough to ask me where I am from. That's why he ended up seriously trying to assert that AK is a useless piece of shit. Somehow I felt offended even if I've never even touched the thing with intention of shooting, outside of the life-safety class at high school. So, after I literally drew him a scheme of how both cheap and efficient AK was for the time of it's creation, the officer went all the way to lecture me in how great Israel is in it's weapon production.

Not that it matters right now, anyway.

Sophia is hiding behind the car again, a different one, this one looks like a hearse. She's grinning behind her mask and reloading her crossbow, but the fire isn't that encompassing as it was before, so she's not in a hurry.

She even glanced at herself in the side mirror and checked her hockey mask and hood. Stalker was a bit disheveled but nothing showed that she was fighting them for ten minutes already, and just couple of moments ago kicked the other one guy in the balls. That happened, while I was trying to remind myself why the hell I remember Uzi being produced in Israel.

Somehow I felt that kick would be especially painful with her shin protectors. Ouch.

"I hoped it would be," - she said and grinned again.

"Somersault! Do the somersault! Enter the fray like a pro! It would be like that Equilibrium fight scene, girl!"

I was like that stereotypical dude cheering for the athlete on sports channel and thinking that I know better.

She just shot the closest of the three remaining nazis in the gut and sprinted to him.

"What are you going to..." - I stopped myself from distracting her and she went intangible again, after sending herself into the other two nazis.

They were standing too close to each other and one of them wasn't even fully clothed - he lost his leather jacket earlier in the fight and now looked like he'd ran off from his mistress's balcony, all being without a shirt and in almost fashionably unlaced combat boots. The industrial light, the one of the two that were in working condition and still remained on the ceiling of the warehouse, was right above both of them, so Sophia could see a distinct Weiße People tattoo on this half-naked guy's chest.

She used the crumpled down form of her last victim as a trampoline and barreled her cloudy self into the half-naked dude. He lost his balance and Stalker had the exact amount of time to get her throwing knife out and use it against the other nazi, who pulled a trigger.

She went intangible and the bullet buried itself in the naked chest of the white supremacist, who happened to be a living and breathing being, so I felt unease at what transpired.

"I'm really okay with hurting them, Sophia, but I think he might bleed out."

She closed her eyes for a moment and gritted her teeth.

She was on the receiving end of the gun of the only standing Nazi-guy and his pupils were dilated, but she wasn't going to risk me being an unbearable bad-singing asshole. So, she shouted.

"Ceasefire!"

That's what you get when you try to communicate with nazis, apparently.

A bullet through the mask.

"I thought, hockey masks aren't inpenetrable, Shadow Stalker?"

"What the fuck?!" - groaned the nazi-guy and lowered his weapon. Is he?..

Apparently, he was high as fuck. Pupil-dilation and all that.

"Get this fucking cunt to a doctor, you fucker," - instructed him Sophia and got off the gurgling but still living piece of shit. He was clutching at her cape with one hand and trying to pressure the wound with the other.

She was alarmed by what happened with her mask, but she was actually very proficient at looking professional while being an amateur vigilante.

"Gun on the floor, now!" - she commanded. - "Phone out, dial ambulance."

"Ugh, okay, sh-stalker!" - he threw his gun on the floor and started dialing 911, his movements were frantic and nervous.

We waited for them to answer and when it was obvious that he's not disobeying, she entered the backroom of the warehouse we were in. Through the wall.

The easiest part of the evening was emptying the contains of the small safe that was located just behind the metal table with some drugs and drinks on it.

"No papers or weapons," - I noted.

It was pretty much obvious we didn't ambush someone important. It was just a meeting of these fuck-ups to plan something in the future, at best, I bet. And the warehouse was an empty storage for the E88, and nothing more. No illegal slavery, no crates with smuggled goods, no drugs, except for those in the safe, but they look like something for their own use. Idiots.

"I'll try to take as much as I can. It's an easy cash," - she stared at the 20$ packs she pulled out of the safe and continued. - "And then we'll talk about that dream."

Both of us were silent for a moment and I don't know what she was thinking about, but my thoughts were pretty obvious.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Sophia Hess?!"


	10. 3.1 The Second day

3.1 The Second Day

Or How to make someone tick

"So, the only thing I gathered from this outing is that the real money are on the virtual side of the world, but we won't get there because we're stupid."

She was tired and really hungry, but this day started with a toothbrush and shower instead of mother barging in.

No mother today, like, at all. I think, she wasn't at home since yesterday morning.

That's just... I have no words.

Terry wasn't home as well, but that's really okay for a twenty something year old guy. Whatever he does is his own business - that's what Sophia said when we came back after stealing from the Empire thugs and I noticed that she doesn't really try to hide her activities.

She made the bed squeak loudly with her weight, threw the bag with a thud, hiding equipment and money under her bed. And she didn't even have the door closed properly, with at least a chair near the doorframe to see if someone entered.

Well, I've been doing those simple traps all the time, when I was a teenager. I always thought that any teen who has secrets or who's simply bent on privacy, like I was, would be anal about these things. Oh those cotton threads connected in a square of chair, doorframe, bookcase and table. That seemed like a pinnacle of thought at the moment, really, and I didn't have a pet to mess with it, but the thing is - you can use such tactics only if your room doesn't contain anything but your own things. I had a bookcase there and obviously I never thought that it's sorta... not really all mine.

Still gets me laughing how I got paranoid for a while but then accidentally sherlocked it by trying to find the book that was required for school literature class and I was sure I've seen it on the shelf. That's how you cure your being anal about something - just feel some shame.

So, Sophia wasn't thinking about anyone noticing her absence and that clearly seems like a mistake that leads to being in the Wards program without any consent but parental, at least in this case.

My concern lead to Sophia laughing at me and telling me that if her mother ever feels like coming to check in on her, she'd be more bothered by the closed door than her not being in the bed. You need to have a really vivid imagination to assume that your daughter can walk through the window without opening the latch from the inside.

Well, that made a lot of sense. any parent that has time to pay attention to whereabouts of their children, would've noticed Sophia not being home as much as she did, since 2007. This lady - and I really need to get her name to finally put it on a person that irritates me this much - really bothers me in times like these.

"Really?" - she asked me, looking incredulously right into her eyes in the mirror.

I already forgot that I've tried to joke and she wasn't into jokes right now. So I snapped out of my musings about her mother and listened to what she had to say.

"That's all what you could think of? We got three packs of dubs and even if it's not the standard hundred in a strap, it'll probably be about five thousand. It's really good."

"Yeah, you're right, but I didn't mean that as anything offensive, really." - my tone was more indifferent than soothing, but I wasn't even trying to antagonise her by that joke.

"Really?" - her tone was less incredulous, but still she sounded quite disbelieving when she clarified. - "Now you're backing down?"

"I'm not," - I would've rolled my eyes if I could. - "I was trying to joke about my inability to hack even an open door and your inability to write even the simplest program without cheating."

"It's not cheating if they offer," - she shrugged and snickered. - "Losers need their hope."

"I'll never understand it. Well, guys do that thing too, using smart girls as personal tutors or copy machines, if they are charming enough, but that's not what I would want to be part of, really. Why would you deny yourself knowledge? You don't even pay for it."

"I don't need it," - she looked even more irritated than before but then she relaxed and rolled her eyes. - "You forget, that I intended to be a cape, join the Protectorate and all that."

"And?"

"Why should I care about computer studies and algebra grades if it doesn't interest me and won't help with my future work?"

"Because you have brains?" - I still wasn't getting it. - "You do understand, that in the light of what I told you, you might never get the opportunity to accomplish your plans about protectorate."

"I don't think I need it even more, then."

She stopped talking while using a flat iron on her hair. Apparently, it required some level of concentration. Before that she came up with some torturing device connected to the hair dryer, and even before that thing, there were the shampoo, the conditioner, some face mask, and also some sprinkled not-water for her hair. That was hell of a long occupation of bath.

That's the first time since I broke my leg, when I - or more accurately, the body I'm in - occupied the bathroom for more than an hour.

Terry, brother, where are you? Save me from this fate! I beg all the gods that are listening, just stop this fucking torture and let us be curly in peace.

"So," - she managed to say between her calculated strokes that heat up both hair and air between the tool and her skin. - "I think, the dream I saw when I fell asleep before we went out, was your trigger event."

Her hand, the left one, with the flat iron in it, inadvertently twitched and I had the certain feeling that it was my doing. Unconscious at first, but terrifyingly real to me in the next few moments.

Sophia was staring at her hand with growing fear and evident spite, hatred even.

"Stop squeezing!" - she widened her eyes while fervently screeching. - "You'll mess with my hair I'll fucking kill you!"

The feeling of the left hand collapsed at once.

Of-fuckin-course there's no way I'll be able to withstand the promise of horrible fate that awaits the one who dares to mess with women' hair.

***

"You're really weird, Sophia," - if we were talking face to face I'd facepalm and wouldn't feel the need to talk to her anymore, but she couldn't actually feel what I feel or see my face, so I had to elaborate. - "You don't waste your money on groceries but you waste it on things like these?"

"It's not weird," - she mumbled and sipped at her coffee. - "Everyone in my family can count, except for obvious, so they'll see if I'll start buying everything on my money. And I think I don't really want my brother to know that he can laze his ass off and we'll still have my money."

"You always have a rationalization for being a bitch, Sophia. It bothers me that I believe you."

"It bothers me that Emma isn't here," - Sophia sighed and sipped at her drink again. - "You can't get lost on the Boardwalk if you're Brocktonite. That's just not done at the age of fourteen, not fucking done."

We've been waiting for Emma Barnes in Starbucks on the Boardwalk, and we weren't the only one of this age here. That's pretty strange for me to see teenagers wasting money on coffee, but I think you have to be a rich kid or someone close to them socially for not to think about it as wasting money.

It was quite shocking for me to see Starbucks in the first place. I didn't notice the mermaid sign yesterday, because most of Sophia's attention was on her little sister. The kid was so happy to do a really simplistic retelling of all the series of "What's new Scooby-Doo?" she recently watched, and in between of blabbing things the kid laid herself out to make sure Sophia's listening by calling her name almost every three minutes.

Her sister almost desperately craved for attention, and I gathered this wasn't a common thing for Sophia to go on a walk with her and not be angry about it.

Little children are wise like that, they don't really feel alright around tense people, because their instincts are still not okay with it. It's school when you have to treat the most tense people with respect and call them teachers.

So, when "Sopi" wasn't that angry anymore, Laura felt like she has to catch up, I think.

The thing is, I'm really okay with Starbucks. I was quite used to buying those Matcha cocktails for my ex-wife when we had our lunch-dates on the work day and I'm used to not being okay with both quality and price of coffee I'm supposed to drink if I'm there with someone, that's actually why I started to like those Matcha cocktails. They don't try to pretend they're coffee and they don't try to bring me to sweet death while not even being subtle about it.

So, the Starbucks thing wasn't why I felt unsettled. First, there were no Matcha cocktails here and we had to settle on triple espresso macchiato, and I felt lucky that Sophia didn't care what to drink and wasn't fond of lots of sugar in her coffee as well. Second, those teenagers somehow seemed unsettling.

I wasn't really sure why it bothered me even. Maybe that's because teenagers just don't go in places like this in my experience, but here they were, a large company of eight kids. Three girls and five boys.

Two of these girls looked like sisters that don't really like each other. I got that impression when the younger one scoffed at the elder one and the elder just rolled her eyes and kept on enjoying the company of her boyfriend. And obviously, I thought they were sisters because both of them were blondes, not that they really are family, I'm not Cassandra or anything. The third girl, brown curly hair in the messy ponytail seemed like she felt necessary to give off the vibe that she's not with those kindergarten runaways and here not to socialise but to be simply caffeinated. Not that her coffee cocktail held more coffee than sugar. Pervert.

The boys weren't as interesting to me as the girls but I got them nicknames - Ron Weasley, Lemon Kid, Jealousy-boy, Table-tale and Blondmaster. Ron Weasley was obviously the red head. Lemon Kid seemed really sour and even his sugary treat didn't help his face to get less grumpy, and he was much younger than other boys. Jealousy-boy was everything I wasn't when I was a teen - an adult-like muscular build, like he's doing freestyle wrestling anytime he's free, darker skin that I really wanted as a teenager because I liked the Sun but it didn't like me... I mean, he's totally the Jealousy boy if he made me jealous even if I grew out of it already, isn't he?

The Table-tale was the one who wouldn't shut up for a minute and always had something to say, he was the jock, too, but I never wanted to be blonde, god forbid, most of them are lucky to have almost invisible eyebrows and I really liked mine as they were. And the Blondmaster got his title because he seemed a bit uptight and he was the guy with one of the blond-sisters as a girlfriend.

I shared all of it with Sophia and she voiced that she thinks that two of these boys might have some sports training, too. When I tentatively asked what she meant, obviously hoping for some useful information, Sophia grinned, I'd say, maniacally grinned but that's her default setting so it's not even a thing, and then murmured that she's able to appreciate the beefcake when she sees one. I forgot she's a teenager and I'm in her head, so I can't run away from the talk.

When I started to pray - desperately and loudly to all the gods that would listen - for her not to fall for someone while I'm inhabiting her head, she snorted, answered my prayers with "I don't really wanna date, so now I have a valid reason not to" and continued doodling in her notebook. I made her buy it - she doesn't have either bluetooth earpods to conceal the voice in her head or self-control to refrain from being emotional while talking to me.

Their table wasn't too far from ours, so the reason I started thinking about who they might be for each other is pretty trivial - both me and Sophia were bored out of our asses and people watching is fun. And Emma was late on twenty minutes, and I'm totally okay with it because I tend to be late on any social encounters myself, but Sophia hated it.

She started dialing Emma and almost burst out with curses when the girl didn't answer.

"Well, she starts to irritate me too, Sophia."

"Don't you say," - she murmured and glanced at the table with those teenagers that was so captivating to fantasize about for all these twenty minutes.

The Blondmaster was looking at us with wide eyes and it made Sophia raise an eyebrow at his antics. He gulped and lowered his gaze.

Sophia shrugged and continued to rile herself up.

Emma's going to have a warm welcome, I feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be happy to have more feedback on this work  
Tell me what you think of it ÷)


	11. 3.2 Flashing dirty laundry

3.2 Flashing dirty laundry

Or How to find out that things are already butterflied, even if you never even tried

"LOLLY LOLLY LOLLY BOMB LOLLY LOLLY LOLLY!"

I was shouting one of the most pesky songs I've ever heard while Sophia was growling out loud at me.

We were in the restroom, not doing anything but looking in the mirror and not being able to communicate. We were both really angry at each other and we weren’t ready to talk it out so I vented my frustration into repeating the refrain and waiting for her to calm down and stop staring in our eyes with hatred that has to be reserved for the likes of Slaughterhouse, not me.

"I did nothing but tell them that it’s not their fucking business, capiche?! I’m not a bad guy here! Why the fuck are you angry at me?”

She finally started talking but I didn’t like it, so nothing stopped me from making her suffer a bit more.

“LOLLY LOLLY LOLLY BOMB”

“Shut it already!”

“I was there, Sophia! You were unreasonably cruel to Emma while she was crying and not coming out the stall because you’re bitch like that, and you got what you deserved from people who saw it for what it actually wasn’t but really looked like! Until you admit your actions weren’t okay not only with me but with rules of basic human decency, I’d be shouting all the horrible songs at you, you little shit.”

“She was hiding in the goddamn stall like she was afraid of something! And she never even thought of texting me! I was fucking worried! And what you think I should’ve done when she fucked me over like that?”

“Try to look at things from her perspective, maybe? Oh no, you’re too fucked up to think about someone but yourself, how could I forget!”

I was clearly mocking her and she didn’t like it in the slightest, so she decided to ignore that I'm right, and repeated what she thought was a reason enough to shout at the already sobbing person.

“She didn’t even think of texting me! I was worried, so she fucked me over by not doing it!”

“How would you know that she didn’t think of it?” – I wasn’t having it. – “She didn’t text you because she didn’t think of it at the time. She was clearly distressed, so it has to be understandable, even for you. Even if you’re your casual socially inept jackal, you should’ve guessed that something unusual happened. Don’t you understand whom we just met here in the restroom, or are you that retarded you can’t even put two and two together?”

“The entitled barbie bitch yelled at me for making Emma cry, even if I didn’t do anything at all, and the freckled girl who moved like she’s a sloth or something tried to push me away from my friend but backed off when she got the idea that I'm not trying to hurt her. And they didn't even say they're in the wrong! Just got her out of here! What the fuck you think happened?”

“I think the initial chain of events was something like that, Sophia. Emma entered this establishment and got hit by Glory Girls aura - the barbie bitch you mentioned looks like someone who fits the description. Somehow we felt nothing out of ordinary, so it wasn’t evident. So, Emma felt fear because she thinks herself guilty of something. I think you know what exactly, so your theory about their past friendship being a pity party for Taylor isn’t really that believable after what transpired. You went to release yourself and vent your frustration at me out loud, so she heard you talking and went out the stall. We’re lucky she was quite incoherent in her wailing, really. Something about some auntie and Taylor and why? It would be awful for you if she rushed out and went to say sorry to Taylor Hebert and then fucked you over for real. And then Dallon sisters walked in on you, thought that you’re hurting Emma because she screamed for you not to touch her in between her hiccuping, grunting and incoherent mumbling. So, now we have to deal with the fallout. As fast as possible, I’d prefer.”

“How the hell you got the idea that they are Dallon sisters, dude,” – she sighed and palmed her forehead. – “I see it now, but… They are… well, not quite New Wave looking right now. And their faces aren’t actually plastered anywhere, and I’m not a cape geek enough to give you any memory of their faces. And what do you mean by the fallout?”

“What other reason for Emma to have such a breakdown if not for some power's bullshit? The thing with Dallon sisters was, I’d say, sort of building up all the time we were drinking our coffee and carrying out our amateur reconnaissance, or whatever they call crowd watching with elements of guessing who the people might be in their regular lives. When I saw this meltdown of your redhead bitch, my first thought was that she’s mastered, not that she genuinely regrets anything. You aren’t that different from what was in the book, after all, so why would she be someone else but Emma Barnes who irritates the shit out of me and, I gathered, arouses the hell out of you, my sociopathic host.”

She started protesting but I shut her up with a very short command.

“Move your ass faster. Don’t you think, she’s unquestionably able to fuck you all up while being in that unmistakably fragile state?”

“Why did you think they are Dallon sisters?” – she repeated her question when her hand touched the doorknob and we were ready to head out and face whatever Emma might’ve blabbered while being regretful.

“We’ve been watching TV today while feeding the little one, Sophia. It was all over the local news – Über and Leet versus Wards and Glory. Accidental pantsu shot on the news, wasn’t it? It got my attention and we both laughed at it, don't you remember? GG got her bike shorts flashed on camera and they chose to show this part of the video on the news, not the one where they pack up the villains. How could I not remember?”

“So… it helped you guess who they are how exactly? The vid was low quality and we never saw her face up close before she screamed at me. And it seems surreal, really.”

“The burly blonde guy seems like Triumph, the athletic Spanish looking guy is Aegis, because I remember those fanfiction stories where they gave him a backstory in which he’s triggered by Empire 88 minorities’ harassment or something like that. The Blondmaster is Gallant and Dean Stansfield, obviously, and the little skulking kid is Vista, because I totally remember her being swooned by this gallant knight since she entered the Wards. Crushes crush even the innocent, Sophia. How old is she, again?”

“She’s so little,” – chuckled Sophia and it was kind even. – “I don’t think I even thought of boys while at her age.”

“You don’t think of boys while at your age, Sophia. You’re not a measure for healthy reactions, never fool yourself!"

“So the redhead guy is a time-manipulator,” – she mused and snickered. – “Unwritten rules my ass, if they have a tendency to hang out like this, I bet it’s le secret de Polichinelle… The hell did I say?!”

Her fingers painfully twitched on the doorknob and she would’ve continued suspiciously talking to the air and fucked if I knew what was that strange reaction after using the french idiom for open secret. It happens to be part of Russian language as well, but I've never heard of it being used on English speech...

We were interrupted by Vista herself, Missy something-something in her civvies. The girl swinged the door open and stared at Sophia impatiently.

“What are you waiting for?” – the girl snapped and her voice wasn’t unpleasant or pitched but lacked any politeness that is obviously required if you’re not a bitch at heart like Sophia is, so that was unexpected. – “Move!”

“What d’ya…” – Sophia stammered, trying to get her mind together but she was physically moved out of the way and that made her stammer even more.

It didn’t sound like Sophia at all.

“Are you fangirling over Vista, Stalker? I can’t believe it!”

She ignored me and called out for the younger girl.

“Okay, just wait,” – this made Vista turn around and look at us with this almost tangible irritation. – “Is my friend, the redhead girl, Emma her name is, still there? Those two bitches got her outa here and the blonde bitch shouted at me, I don’t fucking know why really, and you’re at their table, so maybe you can tell me what’s the situation out there. Please?”

“Wow, that's intense,” – murmured Vista-Missy. – “Who’s that girl to you anyway?”

“It’s complicated,” – Sophia wasn’t fangirling anymore, she didn't want to get into it so Vista mostly irritated her.

“Explain or I’m not talking,” – the girl crossed her hands on her chest and she seemed really full of herself when she had control over such a simple situation.

Sophia rolled her eyes, sighed and surprisingly complied, because I nudged her about the need to control the situation and alleviate the damage.

“We’re friends. We go to school together. She’s been in a huge quarrel with her ex-best friend and that might be the cause of that breakdown. Tell her this, Stalker, and she’ll be on our side because that sounds like you care.”

She repeated my words and I felt her faint surprise caused by the distinct look of pity in the greyish green eyes of the girl. 

“Oh, so Victoria was cussing over nothing. Your friend is hanging on the neck of her boyfriend right now, so I don’t think she’s happy she saved your friend from you. Maybe it would be better for you to fetch her before Glory Girl teaches her to fly...”

Sophia made a show of gulping and widening her eyes.

“So, I almost punched Glory Girl in the face.”

Vista was laughing, clutching her sides and Sophia, social inept she is, turned around and made her way back to the probable warzone.

Missy called out before Sophia closed the door.

“My name is Missy. I’m gonna pee and head back, so you wait either here or there, your choice! I’d love to hear in detail how you’re going to manage hitting Glory in the face and getting away with it!”

Sophia rolled her eyes and answered without any tidbits from me, but I wasn’t any help because I finally felt like I’m intruding in the ladies’ room.

“I never knew she’s Glory Girl before you told me, Missy. Name’s Sophia. Find me at your friend’s table. I’m not required to listen you pee, am I?”

“Okay,” – the girl was already closing the door of the stall and Sophia hurriedly closed the door she held onto on the other side.

“Damn, you were close, you creep,” – she murmured, then straightened her back and marched to the circus I felt it would become.

Those are teenagers we’re talking about. Everything is either circus or tragedy with them.

Depends on the perspective.


	12. Interlude 2. Vista

"They are so amusing, Clockblocker said. Their channel is so cool, Clockblocker said," - murmured Missy under her nose and dodged the imitation of some sort of laser beam. - "Amusing my ass!"

Aegis already met the projectiles headfirst and those things didn't even scratch him. So, now the mighty Wards of Brockton Bay were successfully stalling these sorry excuses for villains by throwing Clockblocker's sass, Carlos's invulnerability and Glory Girl's fists into the action.

It was even filmed in high-quality and promised to be widespread. Vista never wanted such a risque publicity, but no one asked.

If it was Missy's call, they wouldn't even try to help Glory Girl in this. The villains attacked the blonde first and it was really questionable if all the collateral, that the Wards faced when arrived, was their doing. Victoria "Call me Vicky while I'm making you feel like shit" Dallon did have her own "fabulous" team, even if it happens to be agonizing since Fleur's death about two years ago.

Missy wasn't really sure of it, but it seemed to her, that if you don't have your identity to protect you, you need someone much more powerful than you to ensure your safety.

Vista might've overheard Armsmaster talking to himself while she was playing with her reality warping, so her opinion on the matter was unquestionably influenced by the local Protectorate leader.

At the time it was obvious, that the man was speaking to Dragon - he said so himslef while at it - so, it appeared to be worthwhile to sacrifice some of her principles for it. She hoped to win a still lasting bet with Clockblocker and confirm that those tinkers weren't in any type of romantic relationship.

Even if those principles weren't sacrificed long before, she would've done so just to make Clock choke on his presumptions. The bets with elder boys were something new to her just after she joined the Wards, but then Clock started to irritate her instead of amuse. That's what she felt at the beginning, but it changed when he started to mock her crush on Dean, and that wasn't even funny!

The thing about principles, not once and not even twice Missy purposefully overheard her parents speaking to each other the way they'd never speak around her, so Armsmaster talking to Dragon about Panacea wasn't really that special, after all he was calm and collected, not shouting obscenities and accusations of infidelity or wishing death on someone who's already sick with cancer.

So, Armsmaster was sure that the New Wave has been saved by the triggering of not just Alexandria Junior - and he said so with all the seriousness while her own mind made the nickname much more mocking - but also by Panacea. Apparently, it was clear to the Brockton Protectorate leader that the existence of Panacea protects the New Wave from "violent disbandment", as he worded it.

Vista didn't know what Dragon answered back, because she never intended to listen in on something as deeply political and way out of her current league. That talk, happened way back to the end of May, 2009, made her feel both docile and complacent, when this Saturday evening the Wards were told to move out to engage these laughing-stock criminal masterminds. That talk was why she was clenching her teeth, while being dubious and jealous of Victoria, but helping not only her teammates but even this "Alexandria Junior".

Panacea was worth it.

Triumph, the glorious teamleader of local Ward team, who annoyed Vista by being loud and authoritative both with and without the use of his powers but whom she really respected for being mostly useful in the field, was out of it since the beginning. Leet targeted him first and knocked him out with the very first blast. It would've been a pretty smartass move, Vista assumed, if the duo weren't this pointless in their assault.

One of the villains, the athletic man, obviously Über, held a laser-saber in his hand and was wearing some sort of warrior-monk attire. She was aware of the details of his suit because the villain decided to smile at her under his half-mask and jump in her direction.

Apparently, he was utterly bored by dodging brutes and brutes dodging him, she guessed.

They've all gathered, somewhere after Triumph's shameful defeat, that the saber was pretty much real, when Über tore the chunk of asphalt out of the road, apparently just to show off. So, everyone involved immideately decided to work around him, not that it helped. The man was skilled enough not to get into sloppy hands of Clock - those were his powers, actually, to be skilled, so it was nothing new. And the only Ward he didn't attempt to fight yet was Vista.

She spotted Snitch, their flying camera that caught her eye when the villains laughed at the "fallen puss", as they provided Triumph a new nickname for their stream and some quite lively onlookers, who caught the confrontation on their smartphones.

She'd be damned if they make her their new joke, she thought.

Even if Aegis, the second in command, told her to back off and hide, under the pretence of helping her team with redirecting and shrinking things, she didn't think his order covered being purposefully attacked with the sword by the villain.

Über was clearly toying with her when he threw a blow somewhere near her shoulder, but she was certain not to play his games when she shrank his blade to the minimum. Clockblocker, whose faceless mask turned to her the second he understood Über's intentions, almost got himself shot by Leet's creative stun-gun when he stalled his movements in the most seemingly inconvenient moment, but as she shrank the laser blade, she couldn't stop herself from a grin. Her reflexes weren't enough to dodge the true attack from someone as skilled as Über supposedly was, but it wasn't real, and he didn't understand her plan when he looked at his blade and made an "oops" sound, continuing his offensive smiling.

Vista didn't need to move when she shrunk the simplest and many times rehearsed warped tunnel, that started near the Clockblocker's hand and ended right behind Über's shoulder blade. Clockblocker was there when they've been rehearsing it at PRT training facilities, of course, so his reaction was fast enough to make things right for the good guys.

Missy's cheeks reddened - she felt the creeping warmth - when she imagined Dean being with them here and seeing her win, while Victoria couldn't even throw a punch properly because of slippery nature of these guys.

It was petty, she knew it, but she would be unimaginably glad if she was able to redirect the projectiles into specific targets without being compromised as an attacker.

Leet's gun was thoroughly smashed by Glory Girl, who shrugged of the first hit and didn't let it fire the second. When there was no Über to get in the way, it was pretty much done.

The PRT troops captain arrived on site by the end of the action to make sure the villains are processed without any complications.

Vista, for her part, was pretty much done when the captain praised Triumph, who got back from the land of sleeping just couple of minutes before the end and did nothing at all except letting villains monologue at the beginning.

Triumph just went with the praises and promised to write a report.

Rory seemed quite nice to her, before she thought, just then and there, that he's a slimy fucker.

***

The futile attempt to politely decline was lost on the stubborn authoritative personality of current Wards commander.

They were supposed to meet up for study session, implied celebration, but everyone involved knew there was nothing to celebrate, even Rory. So, it has to be a somehow expected talk about the contents of their reports. Deputy Director Renick always requires not only the team-leader's report, but all of them to make an effort.

It's not that they really need those papers, Missy thought, but they need to teach the Wards to do their future jobs properly. Not that they won't read the report, but it seems the ones written by teenagers don't value that much in the eyes of their PRT handlers.

They let it slip if you don't make it, isn't that enough to guess the real picture?

When two Wards in their pretty much unnoticeable civilian attire met up near the bus stop on the Boardwalk, Missy caught Dennis glancing at her with furrowed eyebrows and unreadable eyes.

They were slowly walking to the coffeshop where they'll meet the others. Who would be those "others" except for local Wards roster wasn't an enigma. Probably all the New Wave kids except for the eldest girl whom Missy knew only from those briefings and intensives at PRT headquarters. The youngest, Eric, was just a year older than Missy and didn't even trigger yet.

The identities of the Wards were secret to anyone who's asking, but the New Wave had a very tricky NDA made up, so all of their members didn't require to sign anything anytime they've learned someone's identity. It was implied that New Wave would stay silent in any circumstances. Missy gained that knowledge when she had her long and headachy read on that document, even if everyone around at the time looked like they bit a lemon while she had to ask for clarification every couple of minutes. Piggot looked bored, even, when that law quiz for the only available certified lawyer in the room transpired in her parlor, but Director said nothing even if she also looked like she's trying not to fart. That usually meant she's more pissed than usual.

So, Missy had an inkling that this doc concerned Panacea more than other New Wave members, even if it wasn't worded that way. But it didn't stop Victoria Dallon from learning all the Ward's identities, and Missy didn't welcome it. But she was the only one whose identity Victoria didn't know by the time Vista joined the Wards, so it was really awkward the first time Vista met Glory Girl.

There was also the issue with the meetings outside the Wards HQ. Rory Christner was seventeen, Carlos was almost there and Dean looked like it even if he was fifteen. Dennis wasn't as athletic as them, but they didn't have to look like a sports club, so, she thought, if they were hanging out with each other it would be okay and well, clearly non-suspicious.

It wasn't okay when they were all together in a very public setting with a girl years younger than them. So, if Triumph wanted them to hang out all together, it had to be with other girls for it to not look that suspicious, or so he said.

Missy never really understood, why it was less suspicious to hang out with known capes, but at least she could talk about work if she wanted to.

Well, to small mercies, she thought.

Missy met Dennis at the bus stop so her Mother won't know that she has boys significantly elder than her as friends. This situation wasn't a surprise for Dennis, who met up with her for training sessions many times before, so he was the one who suggested it this time. Vista liked it when he got a bit more mindful than usual, but he didn't seem mindful right now - he acted unusually silent. It was either rude, or it was something on his mind he wanted to spill but couldn't get into it.

"He never screwed up that much before," - Missy sounded unsure but apparently that's exactly what the redhead boy was waiting for.

"Yes, do you believe he'll try to pamper us up and bribe us, or something? I've never been in this kind of situation…" - Dennis was trying to make his tone of voice light and joking but it seemed more strained than anything. - "He'd be leaving for the other job next year."

"I believe that he'll try to make us feel like we owe him for the coffee and his good company. He'll pay for us. You remeber, it happened once after he screwed up. Not that royally, so he was just saying sorry that way," - Vista grimaced and looked at her watch, she often did so when she felt nervous. - "But even if I wanted to save his ass, it's all on the Internet. His nickname's fallen puss for next few months whatever I write in my report."

They were silent for some time.

"I think," - concluded Dennis and opened the door to coffeeshop for Missy to enter before him, - "I'm not in the mood to put up with Rory's "there's nothing in it" demeanor. If you're gonna tell him you didn't like what he pulled off with that PRT captain, I'm with you. If you're not, I'm not saying it, because Dean wasn't there, so he won't step in, and Carlos is… well, you know him. He likes Rory a whole lot.»

"I'd like to think Rory won't try to silence us, or I'll be really disappointed," - Vista shrugged, crossed hands on her chest and glanced at the tables around.

There weren't much people in the cafe, given that it was a well known network, but there were other places to hang out on Boardwalk at the weekend. As well as Vista knew, teens mostly tend to do their homework after school together or to create an illusion of it for their parents in between shopping around. The same picture you could see in that Starbucks nearby Arcadia High, the only thing different was that the «shopping around» option wasn't available. That's actually why they haven't met down there – Glory Girl appeared to be very influential when she wanted to. Apparently, her highness wished for a weekend shopping trip with her boyfriend and sister.

There's no other teenagers around but their merry company, Vista thought mirthlessly. Such a big difference between the midday on the workday and on the weekend, really.

Glory Girl was irritating as hell by being cozy with Dean and pushing her chest onto him. Panacea looked like she met her long lost love while sipping her coffee – her eyes were closed and it looked like she's in an untouchable bubble, that noone should disturb. Carlos was animatedly listening to what Triumph had to say and his hair in a bun were a bit messy. Eric Pelham was sulking around – she didn't know why exactly but could've guessed, really. He was the one unpowered here, so it wasn't that hard to guess.

Amy Dallon stood up – she was done with her dark black liquid, that hurt to look at in all honesty, and looked at her sister. Missy thought that she'd heard the gritting of her teeth, even, but she couldn't – they were too far. The posture was that tense it was pretty much possible she did grit her teeth.

Both Dennis and Missy started moving in their friends' direction, so they've heard what Panacea had to say.

«I'll go get a new one. Vicky, do you want anything?»

Victoria didn't even look back at her sister at first, but Amy started to look even more irritated and snapped.

«Ugh, Vicky, would you please answer me when I’m asking? Or suck his face already, will you?»

«Oh, my, sorry,» - stuttered Victoria and her cheeks reddened. – «Yeah, I'll get the same thing you get, maybe?»

Vista was already close enough to see the immediate softening of features on Amy's face.

«'Kay,» - the healer murmured and turned around, going face to face with Dennis.

The redhead nervously chuckled and was going to say something but met a murderous grimace on Panacea’s face. She nodded to the newly arrived, as was probably polite with any other expression on her face, but she didn’t say anything and stalked toward the coffeshop counter.

The bitch.

«Hey, Missy, Dennis!» - Triumph was loud as always and seemed genuinely happy to see them, but what he said next made Missy's heart sink a bit. – «Finally, you're here! Order whatever you want, I'm paying!»

The next half an hour wasn’t about work at all, it seemed. Amy got back with some deadly sweet not-really-coffee cocktails, Triumph went to buy them what they asked to, and Eric was trying not to ask about their skirmish with Über&Leet but failed on the tenth minute or so. Dennis was the one to indulge him.

Vista didn’t like Dean’s girlfriend in the slightest and she didn’t like that she had to sit between Amy and Vicky, because it was stupid to offer change places when Amy came back and didn’t ask herself.

Missy was here because Triumph asked for it, so she had to suffer through it and wait for the real reason of this friendly gathering. She just have to say “no” when the next time comes, really, no matter what happened before.

She wasn’t sure what to wait of this meeting, but surely it wasn’t some crying girl that Glory Girl and Panacea bumped into while using the restroom. She looked like shit, red puffy eyes and all, but she obviously knew, maybe even subconsciously, what to do if there’s a handsome boy within hands’ reach. So, Dean was hugging the redhaired girl while Glory Girl had a very odd look on her face. That’s exactly when Vista decided to slip away.

She wasn’t sure what to wait of this meeting, yes, but it seemed that it would become much more heated and it probably won’t even get to the point where Triumph can talk to them about what he wanted to. The girl, a bit scary and really pretty, Vista thought, won’t leave her friend alone, so if it’s in her power, she’ll make them stay at their table as long as she can.

Missy didn’t want to spoil her Sunday more than it was already spoiled. And knowing about Triumph not being as good as he seemed to be, well, it would certainly spoil not only her Sunday but probably the whole week. Or even the next year, if she’s lucky.

Missy looked in the mirror one last time, adjusted her skirt once again and turned the doorknob.


	13. 3.3 Greenhouses and brainwashing

3.3 Greenhouses and brainwashing

Or Something about the past and something about the Masters

“Hi.”

Sophia wasn't subtle at all, so, even if her tone was calm, her face showed that she didn't like the boy's hands located on Emma's back, higher than waist, certainly, but it wasn't the point. She looked at Dean like he offended her personally but it wasn’t jealousy per se, it was more like “don’t touch my toys” thing. I know what jealousy is like and it didn't feel like it.

“That's you!”- proclaimed Glory Girl, while Panacea pursed her lips and glanced at Sophia.

It seemed, she already didn't like Hess enough to show that much reaction.

She wasn't really expressionless while talking to her friends - we were watching their table for more than twenty minutes before the Emma thing. Her face had been filled with melancholy and that sloth-like expression. All the time we were watching her interacting with people and people trying to get her out of her shell, she had that unreadable face that wasn't really saying anything at all. Now I could tell she didn't like Sophie, and it wasn't subtle.

“Why you're here?” - Glory continued.

“Why being so rude?” - Sophia didn't say it as calm as she was talking before Glory Girl spoke, and it was obvious why – Victoria was being a bitch purposefully, and it irritated Sophia immencely.

I didn't say anything and I wasn’t sure I should be speaking to Sophia while there were too many distractions and no way to imply that she was murmuring under her nose while sketching something in her notebook – that’s what we'd been doing before all this mess with the restroom. So, Sophia let it go, while still feeling quite angry at the situation, have to admit..

It weren't Wards who answered, naturally.

“Oh, Sophia, I'm, well, sorry! I was... really out of it. I shouted at you and you almost got in trouble with the Glory Girl…”

“You better be,” – Sophia wasn’t having it, apparently, but she has to let it slide – whatever happened to Emma wasn’t for the Wards and New Wave kids to hear about. – “I met that midddleschooler on a way out the restroom, and she told me who you lot are.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“What do you mean?” – Panacea scrunched her nose and decided to clarify as the most sane person in the room, apparently. – “What did she say?”

But her taste in coffee is… ugh. Even it’s remnants are looking disturbingly sweet. Still as cringeworthy as before.

“Your coffee is awful,” – Sophia ended up saying and was surprised by it as much as I was, fuck it, as much as everyone around was. – “Oh, sorry, I mean, well.” – Stalker stuttered and waved her palm in the air, it probably symbolized that she’s thinking. – “I didn’t recognize the New Wave capes, so Missy enlightened me. Laughed at me, too.”

“Yeah,” – Panacea provided weakly, but her voice got stronger after she coughed and drank the rest of her sweet-death coffee. – “So, what happened exactly? I thought, you’re bullying her, or something on those lines, really.”

“I don’t like being stood up, that’s what happened,” – rolled her eyes Sophia and I was cackling because of the bullying presumptions. – “It’s not a date or anything, but the feeling is close enough.”

“How the hell do you know the feeling, Sophia,” – I asked but I forgot she won’t be able to answer me.

“I’m truly sorry, Sophie,” – the redhaired teenage girl with pouty expression on her face answered Sophia and her tone was frustratingly soft. – “I’m okay now.”

Emma seemed genuinely apologetic, and even if I felt nothing good for this girl when I was reading Worm, I couldn’t feel the same now, really, because Sophia didn’t feel the disgust I would’ve felt if I looked at this girl with my own eyes. She betrayed her friend knowingly, after all. Isn't such a thing deserves disgust even more than any bullying she could've come up with?

Sophia didn’t think of what happened with Taylor as of betrayal – she’s been told that it was what Emma wanted for a long time but didn’t have the guts to go through because of the pity she felt.

And I’ve seen the glimpses of those memories when I was trying to prepare myself for the new week – it was like when you’re trying to remember something that happened longer than mere months ago. It really didn’t seem like anything worth calling “betrayal”, at least when you looked at it not from Taylor’s or Emma’s perspective.

Stalker’s been told that Taylor’s weak, and she didn’t question Emma’s demeanor because she didn’t see anything worth questioning. Sophia simply treated Hebert as she thought the weak should be treated and the girl didn’t escalate back.

That’s not the healthy reason to hurt someone in my book, but Sophia wasn’t, no, I’d say, isn’t healthy by any standards.

Taylor Hebert was a civilized wallflower, that’s probably the best way to describe her, really. A bit boring looking, yes, but nothing deserving the pursuing of her as a target of any look-based discrimination.

Well, no one deserves the bullying campaign against them, but I felt somehow disappointed when I couldn’t see anything frog-like in this teenage girl, no grease or mess on her if it wasn’t arranged by her bullies, and they didn’t do it as thorough as it was by the time of her trigger.

Actually, she reminded me of one lover I had and all her sisters that lover introduced me to. Not that I’ve asked, but there are jews who tell every new friend of theirs that they’re jewish, so I knew what I’m getting into from the very start. She was an Ashkenazi girl, nothing outstanding without her makeup, thin lipped, doe-eyed and it somehow looked like she’s always surprised, but not in an unpleasant way. Of course, my girl was much curvier and there was something curious in her eyes that ensured I was into her for that half a year we were together. Only if she wasn’t one of those who like to shout from the start, if they don’t like something you did.

So, Taylor wasn’t ugly and I could imagine her growing up into a beautiful woman, but when I saw her in Sophia’s memories there were no fire that made people curious to me and showed that they are alive and have some purpose, the one others do not know about. She seemed like that “amoeba in human shell”, how Stalker described her and I just memorised, didn’t try to shut her up because I had to make my own impression. So, it highly disturbed me that Sophia couldn’t understand by herself that whatever she disliked and pointed out in Taylor was probably what she was afraid of being herself.

Feeling of uselessness – that’s what surfaced in my mind when I first looked in Taylor’s eyes while carefully browsing Sophia’s faded memories of their encounters at school. She was angry and lost, and apparently the only thing that could make her purposeful were her powers.

She didn’t make friends and hold onto them, didn’t adapt to situation fast enough and wasn’t competitive enough to argue her way out of the situation, or use the few assets she had, or stop being miserable for fucks sake and maybe start befriending people outside the school.

The bullying campaign wasn’t as escalated – it was the freshman year, not sophomore, and there was no accident with her mother’s flute. I had to clarify, because that happens to be one of the moments I remembered, that occurred before the start of the story. Any person who plays an instrument would’ve remembered, I think. Even the image of breaking anything but some random rock guitar makes me cringe. It’s equal to kicking a puppy for me, really.

I can’t say I don’t get what Taylor seems to be as a person, minus losing a Mom and being betrayed by a person who was her rock or something like that. Even minus all that, which are details, I think I know her type.

We called children who resembled Taylor’s peacefulness, or whatever this is if not cowardice that’s understandable and pretty much natural, the greenhouse kids.

Those who wouldn’t go discover the corners of some random building under construction or deconstruction – that’s what we often did at Sophia’s current age. Or maybe play around by jumping on the sheds’ roofs – that was what held lots of fun for kids from eight to twelve, mostly boys, but who could really stop the girl if she wanted to join? They were equally full of madness while being at it. I can’t say that’s what happened everywhere and anywhere, but I remember my childhood and surprisingly, the girls’ total discrimination in some ways started by the age of fifteen, not much earlier.

The garages for cars were built in the common area between the multy-story houses, so those steel sheds were glued to one another, often illegally constructed. You had to get up there with the help of your friends, and it seemed pretty much natural to jump around, producing loud noises, resounding inside of those sheds, playing whatever we had in mind and sometimes just randomly fighting each other on those roofs.

There were always those greenhouse roots who stayed on the ground, tried to talk sense into children’s heads, repeating what they’ve heard from their parents. If they were girls, then they had to be instructed not to snitch on the whole lot, reminded of repercussions of silent treatment, and there were no questions asked of the girls, really. Most of the younger teenage boys thought that girls of their age have shit for brains most of the time they aren’t at school, so that was the valid treatment of those strange creatures who’d rather play something while sitting on the bench than go break something, maybe even their own skull.

Mostly, those greenhouse kids ended up being either properly educated on what to do when you’re in the pack, or were not going out anymore with us, wildlings to play around because their parents were too indulged in their children’ wellbeing. We, wildlings, grew out to be either really fucked up by the end of our puberty because of whatever gang-like shit that happens when you’re not safely at home, but strolling around with a hot head on your shoulders. Or we ended up pretty much self-dependent and gained reason through the lessons of others, who were less lucky.

Those wallflowers ended up becoming either druggies who didn’t know what’s good by the end of their puberty or pretty much glued to the rules and their school marks, and in some ways it’s much more healthy. But you can’t really live in Russia and truly believe that rules and regulations work as they should be and authority won’t fuck you up if you ask for their interference.

Taylor truly seemed like the greenhouse type. The girl looked like she’s lost in whatever’s happening in this cruel mad world, and Sophia just didn’t know, when I asked her after I stumbled upon those memories, why the hell this girl didn’t really do anything when the bullying started. Sophia wasn’t a very much intelligent person when it came to people, if it wasn’t clear even judging by the bullying thing.

Well, Taylor attempted to talk to Emma, as the redhead once indulged in explanations on her sour mood during the lunch break.

Emma… What a mess, really.

“Well, it seems, I’m joining you,” – Sophia got herself a chair from the other table and pushed her backpack under it. – “Sophia Hess. ‘T was not the best circumstances to meet, but…”

She glanced at Emma and I think I voiced what she noticed as well.

“She’s too happy, don’t you think, Stalker?” – I said it and it was sickeningly clear what exactly transpired while we were in the restroom.

Huge difference between what we've encountered in the stall and her, right now, being almost puppy-like while looking at Sophia, like nothing's happened.

Unwelcomed sweat creeped up Sophia's spine.

"Well, that's good you feel better," – my host chuckled but I didn't feel her being in the mood for it, so it was just a show for other teenagers' eyes. - "Want me to get you some coffee?"

"We got water for her," – Triumph replied, that blonde jock I didn’t really like while observing them. - "I thought, she might need it."

"Okay," - Sophia was a bit confused by the fact that he even told her this, so she wasn’t really shy about asking. - "Why are you telling me this? Should I, don't know, praise you or something?"

"Tell him well done and be done with it," I murmured.

I noticed the guy scrunching his eyebrows and guessed he didn't like what Sophia said, not that his face expression was crucial for understanding that Sophia's antics was much bitchy than Glory Girl's.

Sophia sighed and followed my lead.

She was her usual socially inept jackal, still.


	14. 3.4 Plans, lies and lists

3.4 Plans, lies and lists

Or How Gallant sees the supermassive black hole and survives, while Amy Dallon remains on a stake out.

The reason I called Sophia the jackal is simple - her self-esteem is a horrible void, the blown up supermassive star, whatever you call something that sucks everything in it that it can grab and makes it fuel that black hole explosion. She feeds on those who are somehow weaker than her, kicks them when they're already down. She forms a pack with the likes of her and they don't create anything, they devour instead.

The jackals aren't the worst and most dangerous carnivores out there, really, but their pack hierarchy makes them unique for the comparison purposes. Usually, they don't kill a prey, then start dealing with the body, no, they fight over a still living thing if it survived their first onslaught. And it's not that rare for jackals to stay without fresh meat because of their egoistic nature. The prey can get away. Hyenas, as PR unfriendly as those are, had a very distinct hierarchy and the only thing I had against them is how they treated little Simba in Lion King, really. While being funny as hell and laughing inappropriately. So, of course the Hyenas were on my list as well, but Sophia didn't strike me as a hyena. Emma did, Madison did, but, well, they had the jackal qualities as well, so...

When I was a teenager, about sixteen or seventeen years old, I had developed a funny list of comparisons to classify people around me, not that it was perfectly accurate or had the ability to actually put in a box a complex thing that human is. The list was based on some slang words or jargon and its purpose was to label people's actions to make my opinion on them more structurised. The Jackals and Brutes, Amoebas and Fuck-ups - the four on that list that sometimes made me cringe when I encountered those qualities in people. And on Russian it was rhymed. Not that it mattered a lot, but it's always somehow funny when things rhyme without your conscious intent.

What's more interesting is that Sophia used one of my "labels" to describe Taylor Hebert, and haven't even noticed it, yet.

Well, Sophia made it to another level today, I have to admit. Her lies and avoidance tactics are almost supreme right now, when she's trying to hold off her reaction on sudden change in Emma's behavior.

She has to converse with her probable future colleagues, but she couldn't be honest with them in anything and it wasn't even the problem. I have to help her in her lies, certainly, but that's not because I'm in her body and it won't sit well with me to let her fuck up the first impression.

Well, in the case of Dallon sisters the impression was second, but not that it really mattered. It wasn't Sophia who fucked up something, so whatever they thought about her could be changed without much hard work. Even if she acted like a total bitch to Emma when the sisters stumbled upon them, people could've assumed that it wasn't how she always acted.

The blonde was back to her smiling and cheery persona, the same we've seen before that encounter with Emma. I couldn't decide if Victoria had the beginnings of emotional lability or that's actually okay to try to befriend a person you threatened to kick into the restroom wall no more than ten minutes ago. I mean, I thought that Sophia seemed to be one of the most inadequate people I've ever met, but today's winners were undoubtedly Emma and Victoria.

Amy Dallon wore her resting sad sloth face just like before, but after what happened near the toilet stalls, that sloth became much more fidgety than the nature made him, I mean, her. Panacea looked visibly uneasy but her demeanor of a turtle didn't change. I wonder, if the lazy thing is just a play and she's trying to cover her nervousness about the new addition to their table. And I don't mean Emma, who happened to be, let's face it, almost stoned right now - thanks to Gallant.

No, Sophia received Amy's almost undivided attention when she spoke or even moved. I could guess why - she had the opportunity to accidentally brush Sophia's skin, even if I don't remember such a thing. The whole new cluster of problems would be awaiting us if Panacea decided to learn more about my host and would find out how fucked up she is.

So, the thing is, helping Sophia to lie successfully and mislead the Wards and New Wave kids to the point where they might even like her or want to befriend her, wasn't for gaining friendships or making her involved with the PRT and Protectorate earlier than it happened in Worm. No, the lies weren't that obvious, just touches of adequacy that I provided, some minor subjects that Sophia won't even try to bring up - she wasn't the girl of many words.

I would've considered her pretty much boring if I met her when I was a teenager. Pretty, yes, tough, no doubt, but boring as hell. She also didn't like to listen to what people had to say, and she didn't even hide it. The only redeeming quality was, ridiculously, that she wasn't of many words. So, when she spoke it was either utter bullshit she just couldn't help but blurt out, or something brilliant she clearly put a thought in. If she would've been the interrupting type and chatty and also not even hiding her disrespect to other people's opinions…

Well, I think, everything could've been much worse than now. I wouldn't want to just hit her with a rubber-sole of my slippers, I would've probably wanted her to fall asleep forever and let me drive this meatbag instead. I don't really want it right now, honestly. If the body was a boy, years older than Sophia right now, maybe I would've been tempted. All the temptation I could've had pretty much shattered on the impact with reality, where living as a fifteen year old girl might be okay, really, but not when this fifteen year old just killed her first human and has one of the shittiest power sets one could have. She also has to bully Taylor Hebert, apparently, so the Queen Administrator comes out to play.

I don't want to be that girl.

"...so, that's how Madison found out she had a very unfortunate Empire 88 admirer and decided to join our…" Emma stopped her babbling and asked Sophia, who had blanked out for a minute, it seemed. "What are we, exactly, Soph?"

"Probably a study group," she said.

Sophia was back to the discussion she almost missed. What about Madison? Why's she even mentioned? Sophia was blinking and staring above Emma's head, thinking about something clearly important, but apparently it had to end. No way Emma couldn't notice it.

The only bad thing in having two personalities in one brain would be, actually, these awful moments when she has her own mind process and I'm left wondering about things more than I would've done if I was in direct control of what the body does.

"Study group?" repeated Emma with a touch of uncertainty and murmured. "Well, that makes sense…"

"We totally are the study group." Sophia grinned at her friend and was met by a pleasant all-whites smile, not even fake, it seemed. "We're here not only to go shopping and drink coffee, but also to discuss something on the World Issues class, if you remember my text, Ems. Mads haven't answered yet, and I'm not counting her sending me a link to his email. Julia went on with how her dog is sick and she had to take care off her poop and puke everywhere. So, you're my only hope to get what Mr. G wanted. Ugh, sorry, you're eating."

"I'm drinking," Emma waved away and sipped at her latte. "There was no hidden message in his email, you know Sophie? So, we have to do exactly what he told us. Pick something, discuss it. Plain and simple, really. What did you want to shop for?"

"I was saying sorry to Missy here," Hess rolled her eyes while Vista giggled at her antics and continued chewing on a croissant. "I need a couple of new joggers and to try on the new models of New Balance."

"And a music shop," - I reminded her of what our sax needed. - "Care kit and a new mouthpiece. Rubber, I think. You're too inexperienced for metal. Don't feel so surprised! I didn't ask you to do that today, but I'll need my compensation for shopping with her. I've seen it in your memories, she's worse than anyone I've ever dated!"

"And a music shop," - Sophia repeated after me and winced, apparently because she couldn't tell me to suck it up and fuck off out loud. - "I received an… inheritance of sorts, so I need a care kit for it. And I don't know what subject exactly Gladly wanted us to bring up, so I'm kinda at a loss."

"The teach didn't give you a list?" Dennis lifted an eyebrow and Sophia theatrically threw up her hands in the air showing her frustration the way it wasn't destructive.

"He said something about choosing whatever we want to," Emma made a pause and looked at Sophia like she was stupid. "And using the topics we've already covered."

"I think I slept through it," sighed Sophia in a mock defiance.

It looked perfectly normal, even if Sophia couldn't help it - she was strongly annoyed by what Emma might or might not be implying by her patronizing tone. "Is she brave or is she immortal" - was the only distinct thought I could fish out of all the mix that was Sophia's head.

Stalker wasn't in the mood to continue the discussion, so her gaze wavered from Emma. The redhead still dared to show her teeth in an open smile, while being as irritating as she was. I thought nothing of it all, but for Sophia being considered dumb wasn't the thing she liked to experience. Her irritation was almost palpable for me, so when I saw Gallant flinch from her mere glance, I wasn't as surprised as I could've been if I didn't know who this boy was.

Stalker almost hated him already for the use of his power on Emma that made her so unlike the Emma Sophia knew. The effects were obviously non permanent, so the true anger was short lived. She still wanted to beat him with his own leg, or that's how I interpreted her feelings, but it wasn't urgent or anything. But when he couldn't even tolerate her glance, she grew even more disgruntled.

"Weak shit," she muttered and I cursed internally because she had to be alone for that comment to go unnoticed.

"What?" Missy was sitting just nearby so she heard, of course she heard.

"I want more coffee," explained Sophia.

As if it explained anything, really, but the tone of her voice was suitable for an explanation.

When she came back with our new favorite, triple espresso macchiato, I got a feeling that the tension in Sophia's head somehow crawled out of the hole it was in and invaded the reality. Not that it's true, of course, or we have a serious problem.

"Lay off my boyfriend, would you?" smiled Glory Girl and we both felt the new wave of tension - it wasn't coloured as any particular emotion for us but it was there.

That, I understood, was called Glory Girl's Aura, and it hit the whole table. We couldn't feel it near the counter, so if I'm not wrong, Emma wouldn't be able to feel it near the entrance, would she?

"So, I was wrong, then," it dawned on me and I felt the horror of unknown - or a very much known - third party involved.

"I'm not laying onto anyone, Victoria," pouted Emma, and she wasn't even clinging to the poor Gallant like it happened just after the restroom accident.

Of course she's already stopped doing whatever she was doing, but I had some guesses. She, supposedly, decided to blab his ears off, and that made GG react unwisely. Probably, Emma did so purposefully, but I have to double doubt any conclusions I make, it seems.

"So, guys, were you here to study, too?" Sophia asked the whole table, and the tension lifted when Glory Girl apparently got poked in the ribs by Panacea. I didn't know such a feat was possible, even - GG has a forcefield, or what?

Sophia's interruption made Dennis breath through his teeth and murmur something incoherent, Missy nod with an uncertainty and Rory, the jock, try to explain.

"Dennis helps Missy with her studies, yes, but well, we're here celebrating something. So..."

I felt mirth I shouldn't be feeling but I couldn't help it. I guessed what they might celebrate.

"Are you pondering what I'm pondering, Sophia?" she didn't answer but her grin widened while she sat down and gulped down almost half of her hot cup of coffee, burning the tongue a bit in the process. So, I clarified. "Let's make it real awkward. Let's troll the shit out of them. I don't think it would work as intended, but at least we'll have some fun until we all part our ways and never see each other again."

"Hmm, I see…" she murmured and stared at Dennis, and her next phrase seemed somewhat flirty, which I didn't like at all. "So, what are you helping her with? She seems like a smart girl, really. You have to be smart, too."

Dennis blushed at that like only the redheads can blush, and Missy blushed and glanced inside her empty coffee cup.

"Its, ugh, physics," Vista mumbled. "I didn't get something and I knew Dennis could help. I know him from… my latest volunteer work."

"I think we all know that's bullshit," I would've grinned if I could. "l suggest, we proceed tormenting them in these little things, while we're still here."

"Oh, I've been thinking on some volunteering," Sophia was quite an actress when she wanted to be, I'll give her that. "What's your experience?"

"Help at the hospital," Amy the Sloth made her move and left the whole table silently looking at her. In that aspect she was a bit like Sophia, it seemed. The idea was brilliant in many ways and pretty much disturbing in many others. Nor me, neither Sophie liked the idea of acting as a nurse, it was a hard work but it would make her record shine in the eyes of PRT handlers, or that's what I thought. "Hospitals in this city are mostly shit or really loaded, except for Anders Memorial. So, they all have programs for high schoolers."

The whole hospital thing made Sophia cringe, and me too, but it wasn't as visible. First, we both didn't like neo-nazis, and second, it was the Medhall who actually did the protection racket in that part of the city where the hospital she mentioned was. Anders Memorial wasn't connected to any of such racket schemes, it seemed, not that Sophia would've heard of those on the streets. But we knew who's Kaiser and even if we couldn't do anything with it, it was really hard not to react on Amy probably working for the hospital connected with local nazis on such an intimate level. It was obvious she knew about whole hospital volunteering thing because of her powers.

And Gallant was fucking disturbing when he reacted on every goddamn moodswing of my host. He didn't grimace like that with others, did he?

Well, that was a problem for our next meeting, if it would ever happen. I hope not, not that my hopes mean a lot in this setting. They'll probably meet at the wrong place and at the most inappropriate time, and it would ruin our plans at that time somehow. Yeah, I'm that optimistic. And Gallant would probably assume the worst.

I doubt he sees butterflies and rainbows while looking at what a mess Sophia is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally unrelated but you might like it
> 
> Fucked up animation about trolling and how it can go wrong https://youtu.be/1LuyZ7ZdOow
> 
> And a pretty much unrelated to the chapter but that's actually one of the points why I live in depression (not as a diagnosis) and it affects what I write. I have culture for it
> 
> Music video with Russian aesthetic https://youtu.be/PisI9l29k4E


	15. All the sketches for this thing

first sketch (the idea)

Gallant sees Shadow Stalker

What's actually happening =)

And the media thread on spacebattles for sketches on Worm. I'm not an artist, so I dunno what I'm doing most of the time [Sketch spree, basically the ideas](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/shadow-hound-shadow-stalker-si.777208/post-62596771)


	16. Bonus Chapters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scenes I'm not sure about. Forgot to post it here =_=

**01\. Business Card**

_Sophia's house, one-on-one dialogue_  
  
Sophia’s suggestion was to ignore it.  
  
I didn't like the idea of calling anyone this Deus Ex Contessa suggested to call, considering her vague threats and bonuses. The bonuses aren’t even that good - just a nazi’s saxophone and a fedora. Where would Sophia play the saxophone anyway? Scratch that, how would she do that if we don't wanna truly merge with each other?  
  
“You know, Sophia,” she shook her head and brought the card to her eyes while listening to me “it’s actually better to look the gift horse in the mouth because it might be the Trojan one. I’m always wary of free cheese because it's actually for catching mice. How'd you like to be that mouse, Sophia?”  
  
My speech died out when Sophia read the name again. Out loud.  
  
"Number Man. Who is he?"  
  
"He used to be in the S9. Don’t remember his name during that time, or his first cape alias, but we can probably use the Internet to find out more of his history. That is, if you get your ass up tomorrow and finally make it to the library after school.”  
  
“I don’t really know why we might need it if I can’t capitalize on it,” Sophia shrugged. “You know my powers aren’t that great and you say he was in the Nine. I doubt I could ever beat him if he's against us. What are his powers, anyway?”  
  
“Uhm... something to do with numbers, obviously. I don’t know, actually, and now we have a much better reason to go to the damn library. But I know we need to call him. He’s important. Even if Contessa knows our location, I think we should use a fresh burner phone and trash it after. Just in case.”  
  
Sophia threw the card on her bed in frustration. “I’m not gonna endanger myself like that. You said he used to work with the most dangerous villains in the world. You always tell me that I’m not good at thinking, but I have a suspicion that it’s your problem, Kabaev.”  
  
“You are my problem,” I jabbed.  
  
Her frustration and anger were rubbing off on me. I sighed and considered that I’m the thirty year old here, not her, so I have to act like it at least if it comes to arguing.  
  
“I never wanted to be in your head. And I’m trying to help you right now, Sophia. The S9 is the line most villains never dare to cross. I forgot to say this before, but doesn’t it say something, that everyone significant I remember from canon flock to Number Man to manage their finances? It means that he’s professional and reliable, regarding his job at least.”  
  
“No, you’re trying to make me do what I don’t want to. What I don’t even need to do. I’m ready to kick some nazi ass, but I’m no superhero and I don’t want to die."  
  
She shrugged off my advice, that I felt was vital to our future survival. We needed some closure and more connections, but she didn't want to rush it and get in the Cauldron mess knowingly.  
  
So, that was it.  
  
We didn't call the man, but she did go to the library the next day.  
  
She liked to think that those little bits of knowledge would worth anything in the long run.  
  
I wasn't that optimistic.

**02\. Sleepover**

_Emma's room at her house; sleepover on the first weekend of November_  
  
"So, Emms, what do you think about my idea?" Sophia carefully watched Barnes face, while telling her the plan, and I'd be damned if the redhead's plastered excitement wasn't fake. "They won't even know that's us, really. And you'd probably stop freezing up every time you see the ABB wannabe. Hopefully. Don't think I haven't noticed."  
  
"I don't freeze up!" the worry in her eyes wasn't fake, finally she's opening up!  
  
"Maybe someday she'll stop this stupid fake it until you make it bullshittery," I murmured.  
  
My input was the reason why Sophia kinda unfocused while listening to me, and her gaze fell upon some family photos on the wall behind Emma. There were Taylor and, apparrently, her mother in one that caught Sophia's eye. I would've choked on anything I had to say, if I could. The hypocrisy of this girl seemed quite unnecessary and very much unhealthy. She still cared about this "lost in the school drama" girl because the photos stayed on her wall, despite she made it clear she didn't want Taylor in her life anymore.  
  
"But I highly doubt it." I had to end my previous thought properly.  
  
"Whatever," shrugged Sophia, answering both me and Emma, in a way, and shared her simple wisdom with the Unworthy, I mean, with Emma Barnes who's totally unworthy of wasting time on her in my eyes, but whatever. "Almost everything can be overcome with some careful planning. So, busting up the school pushers would help me catch the bigger fish, and by catch I mean find their stash and take the money. Our resident pushers get their stuff from other pushers and even if there's nothing but weed and barbs flowing in Winslow, there's more where they get it."  
  
"Sophie, are you sure you are able to pull it off? I don't mean you can't but..." Emma's expression seemed worried. "And why are you even telling me this plan, where's my place in it? I don't think I..."  
  
"You could be on the lookout and also," Sophia didn't let her finish, "You could learn how to break into someone's locker without any powers involved. I mean, if you want to help break down the drug dealing chains of all the involved parties in Brockton, and not be seen involved in it at all."  
  
"That's just…" she seemed a bit lost and shook her head. "Your plan doesn't put me in any danger, really, and you… you somehow… wrongly, I'd say, tried to guess that I still have problems with what happened… that night? So you… you wanna show me that I could be of use in the anti-gang operation? You think, I'm stupid? Is that your way to show me how weak I am that the only use for me is to watch out and…"  
  
"I need you for the most important part, Emma," Sophia rolled her eyes. "The part where you help me find out who the fuck is the pusher. I know some faces, but you have much more friends than I do. I also can't track anyone my brother deals with, cus you know, they'd totally track any reveal back to that… buffoon."  
  
"Weird word," smirked Emma and asked. "You don't tell me much about him. Terry, was it?"  
  
"Well, Terence, actually, but he hates it, so… Yeah, you remember right." Sophia nodded and crossed her legs. "He likes… you know, weed. Nothing heavy, or anything. Never at home, but I know the stench if it's there. Not that often, too, so I can't really…"  
  
"I think I got it, Sophie," she smiled and that somehow felt genuine, which made my host feel happier than before. Weird girl, she is. "So you really need my help?"  
  
"Why would I ask if it wasn't real?" grinned Sophia and I felt like facepalm. "So, what exactly do you know about drugs, Emms?"  
  
"Well, they're… Either pills or weed or some hard stuff, which is wicked."  
  
"Yeah, basically you're… you summed it up, yeah. But the thing is, I asked more about if you're aware of who does what in Brockton or not."  
  
Emma sighed and leaned back on the pillow - she was sitting on her bed all this time. Meanwhile, Sophia was resting our tired ass on a rainbow-colored bean-bag. She secretly loved it - I managed to fish it out when Emma offered her to sit with her on the bed and Sophia refused. I mean, we established that Hess sorta liked the looks of her red-haired friend, the non-straight way liked, so she had to love the cosiness of the good quality bean-bag more than the cosiness of friendly cuddles she could receive on that bed.  
  
Oh wait. Does she even like cuddles? Scratch that, does Emma even give cuddles in the first place? Damn, this not-straight thing is pretty much lucky for me, but I can't help but notice Sophia's eyes lingering on all the fit boys around, while she doesn't even notice that slight lingering most of the time.  
  
"The Empire does synthetic drugs of higher quality," oblivious to how she stares at Emma's chest more than at her face, Sophia started her drug-related lecture. "So, most of the good pills come from them, cus you won't kick the bucket if you take some, which is a gamble when it comes to Merchants handmade candies. So, all you have to ask if someone offers you a molly or some type of barb is if it's Empire or not. The Empire doesn't work with cocaine for whatever reasons, so that's why the coke is the ABB and Merchant turf. Merchants' cocaine is often cut, so I'm usually searching for places where they stash it to do the procedure. Though, ABB branch that handles coke cares for rep - god knows why - and they do not dilute. So, that's why I'm aiming for deals more than for stashes here. Both ABB and Merchants deal with Meth and Heroin, and I'm aiming for finding those fuckers cus I don't really care for easy-peasy shit like weed which everyone sells and I doubt anyone cares about. This thing - this idea, Emms, is my way to prove myself to the Protectorate bitches, so they'll accept some of my requisitions when the time comes."  
  
"When… what do you mean, exactly?" Emma furrowed her eyebrows. "You mean, you wanna join?"  
  
"You do understand that I'm no ignorant to the statistics of lone capes survival, do you?" Sophia seemed surprisingly calm and I was totally laughing at the scrunched up face of Emma Barnes, who just started to comprehend how intelligent and bordering on competent Sophia sometimes acted if it was connected to the cape scene or criminals.  
  
"You really thought it through, didn't you?" blurted out Emma. "I thought you're going for that… ugh, lone wolf vibe?"  
  
Sophia giggled, Emma started pouting, so she just had to giggle more. Then she explained. And I was almost proud of how she twisted the real reason of her actions into whatever rubbish she told Emma.  
  
"Yeah, but I was too young and too aware of how fucked up that would be to be pressured into this PR bullshit for longer than couple of years. I had street rep when I was thirteen, Vista just doesn't, face it. Not yet. She has PR pressure to be a little girl she's really not, cus she'd triggered. And that ridiculous set of armor with a skirt and chestplate. Until they see her slamming down Hookwolf or something, they'd just shrug off that she's fuckin' letal dangerous if the equipment is right. All of us are. That's why everything required planning. So, would you help me with the lockers or not?"  
  
"I don't think there's any choice, you know?" sighed Emma and stood on her bed. "Come up here, bitch, my beauty needs her sleep."  
  
Sophia eyed her up, cute pajamas and all, and smirked.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you tell me I'm beauty," Emma went scarlet immediately and imitated the fish out of water. "But I really doubt I'm yours, Emms."  
  
"Hey!" she playfully punched Sophia's shoulder when she wasn't out of reach anymore. "Come here and don't you dare fuckin' cuddle me, like the last time."  
  
"I'm too hot for you to bear, got it," snickered Sophia and received more playful beating of her shoulder which made her react with something as playful. "Oh my, massage is good, you have to pursue the career if you're that enthused about it!"  
  
"Bitch!" huffed Emma and I was trying to shut off the sensations the body felt.  
  
They continued to banter until they fell asleep, and I even started to consider Emma Barnes an okay girl.  
  
Up until Monday, when she showed her true fucked up colors once again.  
  
\---  
**I'll be happy to know what you think of these scenes**


End file.
